Shoelaces
by jennamajig
Summary: Daniel tries to deal with being little Daniel. 20th story: One Last Shoe is up. Series is COMPLETE.
1. 1 Shoelaces

**Shoelaces**  
by Jennamajig

* * *

SUMMARY: Daniel tried to deal with being little Daniel. Inspired by the DJsSG-1Lverse yahoo list.

SEASON/SPOILERS: None.

DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.

* * *

Tying shoelaces is easy.

Well, it was easy. Yesterday it had been a task he could accomplish so easily, so simply, that he never realized he took it for granted. Fingers that could grip the strings and pull them into a loop that basically held his entire foot safe.

Now his foot was denied that safety.

Now things were different.

For starters, his foot couldn't even reach the ground anymore from his perch upon one of the infirmary's chairs. His stubby fingers couldn't grip the laces with enough coordination to form the loop needed to secure the neat, tight bow.

He slammed his fist in frustration, but that, too, was different. The heavy plastic barely felt what he had intended to be a hearty blow. He picked up the shoe and launched it across the room.

"Daniel." He looked up. Jack O'Neill held the object of his annoyance in his hand. The shoe seemed so tiny next to his large, long fingers.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, and silently cursed when he felt tears threaten his eyelids. No! This was no reason to cry. It was just a simple pair of shoes, a simple pair of shoelaces.

"It's okay," Jack said and crouched down to his level, his brown eyes meeting his own blue ones. He shook his head. He didn't want sympathy. He didn't want help. He didn't want new sneakers withlaces he couldn't even manage to pull into a stupid loop.

He wanted to fix it.

The tears threatened again and this time he was unable to stop them from flowing down his cheeks. He was such a baby. No, not a baby...

A child.

He watch and sniffed ad Jack wordlessly took the shoe and fit it over his foot and tied it efficiently into a bow.

The tears increased. He couldn't help it. He wanted to, but he stared at the small little shoe on his small little foot and it all got blurry.

He felt Jack pick him up, felt his arms circle him, and he leaned into the embrace, both embarrassed to be crying into Jack's shirt collar and relieved for the comfort he felt. His emotions were on a rollercoaster and he feared any and everything would set them off.

"We'll get you Velcro," Jack murmured into his ear and he tried so very hard to stop crying. He truly did. "Shhh." Jack was smoothing his hair back, taking a tissue from someone he couldn't see and prying him away from his collar so he could dab at the tears. "It will all be okay," he soothed.

But it wouldn't be okay. Things were different now. Different forever.

The tears eventually stopped falling and he still found himself in Jack's arms.

"Better?" Jack asked and he simply sniffed.

"It's different now," he finally said, voicing his own fears. He wiped his hand across his nose.

"Don't do that," Jack gently scolded. He took a clean tissue and pushed his nose into it. "Blow," he commanded and for a second, he feared he'd tear up again from needing help for such an ordinary task. He finished and Jack threw the tissue down.

"It is different," Jack finally agreed.

"I don't want it to be." His voice was smaller, sad.

"I know." Jack smoothed his hair back again and he wanted to resist the touch. He wasn't a child. He said so.

"I know," Jack repeated, but the two of them knew the truth. A five-year-old was a child. The fact that his brain wanted to be thirty-eight, remembered being thirty-eight, in some ways still thought it was thirty-eight, didn't matter.

They couldn't fix this.

They'd tried.

New sneakers were now meant to be permanent, at least until he outgrew them.

He sniffed, tired of fighting the five-year-old thoughts, but worried about losing his thirty-eight-year-old ones.

"I want to be thirty-eight," he muttered and Jack tightened his grip.

"You will be. Someday," Jack promised.

But someday wasn't soon enough for Daniel Jackson.

* * *

Back to Stories by Jennamajig. 


	2. 2 Shoe Shopping

**Shoe Shopping**  
(#2 in Shoelaces LD universe)  
by Jennamajig

* * *

SUMMARY: Daniel and Jack try to deal with Daniel being little Daniel. Inspired by the DJsSG-1Lverse yahoo list.

SEASON/SPOILERS: None.

DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.

* * *

Too many shoes.

Rows and rows of sneakers with bright white laces. He frowned as he ran his fingers across a row, sending the pair at the very end tumbling to the floor.

"Daniel!" Jack O'Neill's hands pried his from the display.

"Sorry about that," Jack muttered to someone and he found himself staring up at a salesperson who couldn't have been a day over twenty-five.

"Oh, don't worry about it," she said, flashing a too big and too bright smile. "Kids never like shoe shopping." He scowled at the comment, continuing his pout as he clung to Jack's arm and began to sway. He resisted the temptation to chew on his thumb. That was a habit of his when he was little and his father was constantly taking the digit out of his mouth. Jack was no different.

Of course, he was little.

His swaying increased and he tugged on Jack's arm.

"Aww, why isn't he just the cutest thing!" Great, not again, he thought as he ducked behind Jack's legs, hand still gripping Jack's arm like a lifeline. This of course, only made the woman "aww" some more. He mentally tucked that piece of information away.

This time the thumb went in his mouth.

Jack managed to semi-drag him in front of the woman again, giving him a silent apologetic pat on the head as he did so. He didn't even bother to try and remove the thumb, which told him Jack was as uncomfortable with this situation as he was.

"We need sneakers. And dress shoes," Jack began, bringing the woman out of her adoring and back to her task.

"Of course," she replied, and picked up a pair of small Nikes, their laces drooping and mocking in neatly tied display mode.

He didn't think he could shove his thumb any further into his mouth.

Jack gave a small smile and another pat, before shaking his head. "No  
laces."

The woman looked confused, then nodded. "Oh." She reached across Nikes to pull out of pair of simple white sneakers, complete with Velcro fasteners. "We have these."

Jack looked down at him and he bit down on his thumb. This was real. Another reminder of the years and struggles ahead.

He gave a small nod.

"We'll try those," Jack told her, and he could hear the fatigue in his newly appointed guardian's voice. He knew he wasn't the only one adjusting.

"What size?" Jack looked down at him again and he shrugged. Sam had brought him the shoes he was currently wearing. They appeared to fit well. Thumb still in mouth, he lifted his foot.

Jack caught the hint and lifted him up, placing him on a bench. Before he pulled the shoe off, Jack pulled his thumb out of his mouth. He frowned.

"Danny," Jack warned, and he knew he had to play by these new rules. He knew he shouldn't be sticking his thumb in his mouth. His thirty-eight-year-old self told him that; even recited it in twenty-three different languages. His five-year-old self simply pulled the digit up his mouth and held a degree of comfort with every chew.

He sighed as Jack peered into the small sneaker to read the size. He couldn't fight the emotions. He could translate a ten-thousand year tablet from another planet or ramble about Mayan culture, but still wanted to chew on his thumb and play with his Matchbox car afterwards. He didn't want help, or sympathy, or to hear how cute he was, but he couldn't deny the warm he felt in Jack's hugs and how he yearned to do any and everything to receive one.

Satisfied with a size, the saleswoman had left to retrieve the shoes and Jack sat down next to him, sighing.

"It will get better, Danny. I promise."

He simply nodded, knowing his friend was doing all he could to make this situation work. He had refused to let anyone else take him in and was even in the process of drawing up false birth certificates and other documents, including the beginning paperwork for adoption proceedings.

Jack hadn't finished yet. He knew why.

Hope.

They both knew it was fading. Had faded. However it was phrased, it still meant the same thing.

But it didn't make it any easier for either of them to deal with it, to adjust. It was a slow process and even a simple task like shoe shopping was another leap toward trying to regain normalcy.

The saleswoman returned with the sneakers. Jack took one shoe out of the box and wordlessly handed it to him. He knew what Jack was doing. Knew that Jack knew he needed something to control.

He needed to take this step himself.

His small hands gripped the shoe. He would have never imagined something so easy would be so hard. He swallowed. Now or never.

He managed to get the Velcro undone, wincing at the sound. He managed to get the shoe on his foot.

He hesitated before reaching for the Velcro to finish the task. He looked up at Jack, his eyes pleading with the man to understand.

Jack took his hand and placed it over the Velcro fastener. Both hands pulled it closed.

Daniel stared at the shoe. For the first time since it all began he gave Jack a small little smile. Jack grinned back and patted his head, before reaching a hand around his shoulders and pulling him into a hug.

Jack understood.

What he had really needed was for them to take this step together.

* * *

Back to Stories by Jennamajig. 


	3. 3 Shoeprint

**Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has been reviewing. No, this isn't how Daniel got changed (the muse is currently liking to write Daniel already small), but eventually I will try and write the prequel. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

**Shoeprint**  
(#3 in Shoelaces LD universe)  
by Jennamajig

* * *

SUMMARY: Daniel and Jack try to deal with Daniel being little Daniel. Inspired by the DJsSG-1Lverse yahoo list. 

SEASON/SPOILERS: None.

DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.

* * *

He lined up the car for its target. Perfect. He pulled back, then shoved the tiny piece of metal on wheels across the coffee table. 

Bulls eye! It hit the sneaker and tipped it over...

"Daniel."

...Straight into the paperwork Jack was trying to complete.

"Sorry," he muttered, retrieving the car and shoe. He fiddled with the shoe's Velcro strap, antsy.

Jack was filling out adoption paperwork.

It had been almost three months since his sudden transformation and last week the hope that they'd find someone to reverse this had been completely stifled. The Tokra were useless. Then Thor beamed his little self in and regretfully informed them that his change could not be overturned by any Asguard technology.

He'd blinked, both in disbelief and at the fact that he was actually shorter than the small alien.

When Thor had left, he'd gotten up and shoved the phonebook he'd needed to sit on to reach the top of briefing table on the floor, and plopped down in tears. Then he'd been angry at himself for reacting such a way and that only prompted more tears.

It simply wasn't fair.

Jack's hug helped, but the reassurances that "things would be okay" were old and tired, and even Jack sounded old and tired as he said them. So he didn't. Sam did, Janet did, even Teal'c tried. Jack simply held him and rubbed his back, letting him soak the shoulder of his uniform jacket. Hammond patted his head and excused himself, gently reminding Jack of talk of plans for the future.

The future. He'd be left somewhere, he was sure, while Jack, the General, Janet, everyone but him, discussed his future.

But it didn't happen that way. Jack let him cry himself out till he was so tired that he found himself snuggling into the folds of Jack's jacket. Felt Jack shift his weight as lifted him up and walked out of the briefing room. He'd drifted off somewhere in between because when he woke up, he was in still in Jack's arms. But Jack was sitting on the couch in the back of his archaeology lab.

No, correction, the "other" Daniel's archaeology lab.

He could see the messy groups of uncategorized artifacts, and oddly enough the computer was turned on, its familiar Egyptian screensaver blinking away, as if he'd simply left it on overnight.

"We need to talk." Jack's voice was soft, and he reached a hand up to stroke Daniel's now blond hair.

"There's nothing to talk about." His voice still sounded small. He'd never gotten used to it. He supposed he was going to have to. He shifted, kicking his foot out and stared down at the Velcro sneakers on his feet. He'd barely gotten used to needing them. Yes, they had been the first step, but there were still many more to climb.

He lifted his thumb up to his mouth, biting so hard on it he thought he may have drawn blood.

"Daniel." Jack's hand was there, pulling his thumb out, and stroking it, as if he knew about the pain, both physical and otherwise.

He sighed. "I know."

"Fraiser's been helping with the paperwork. I won't let anyone else have you."

"I know," he repeated. His five-year-old mind was secretly delighted. His thirty-eight-year-old brain was screaming. He hadn't needed anyone to take care of him before, he certainly didn't need anyone now.

But he made no move to leave Jack's lap. He was a walking contradiction and may remain that way for the rest of his life.

Which now, was going to take considerably longer.

"We still need you. Hammond and I will work on a way to sort out the details, but even though you don't feel like it, this is your lab. You are still Daniel Jackson." Jack took his chin and met his eyes. "Don't you ever forget that. The SGC isn't abandoning you." He paused.

"I'm not abandoning you."

"It's not the same." No one would listen to five-year-old. Especially one that corrected a translation and then went back to his Matchbox car set.

"I know," Jack answered. "But we're family. That doesn't change."

Daniel blinked, and nodded.

Since that moment, there had been an avalanche of paperwork and discussions. Much to his surprise, Jack didn't have one meeting with Hammond or Fraiser where Daniel himself wasn't present. And despite the fact that his mind often wandered due the apparent shrink of his attention span, he appreciated the adult sentiment more than he could ever express. He may not be able to tie his shoes, but a small piece of the former Dr. Daniel Jackson remained and he wanted to hold on to it. It was all he had left of that part of his life.

More paperwork proved that. Dr. Daniel Jackson, to the majority of the world was gone, expired. In his place was an awkward, small for his age, allergy and asthma plagued, genius five-year-old who vaguely resembled him. At least on paper.

But paperwork wasn't fun.

Hence the current sneaker-car launch.

He pulled the Velcro strap again, the sound loud in the suddenly quiet room. He heard a sigh from Jack.

"Sorry," he said again. Fear crept into his voice. The five-year-old psyche was fragile he was learning all over again.

"Stop apologizing. Though I have told you that sneakers stay off the furniture, remember?"

"Sor-" he started, then stopped himself. Jack grinned.

"Some things don't change, you know. You're still a troublemaker." Jack put down his pen. "Come here. There's something I want you to look at."

He left the shoe and walked the short distance to Jack's end of the coffee table. "Okay..." He wasn't sure what he was looking at.

"Here." Jack pointed. "Your name."

He leaned down. "First name," he read. "Daniel. Last name...it's blank. Jack, you know my last name." He looked up at his guardian.

"Do I?" Jack asked, eyes serious. Daniel blinked, cursing when he felt wetness caress his eyelids. Damn it, all he did was cry.

Jack reached above his head for one of the tissue boxes he had placed all over his home long before Daniel had been changed. He handed it over.

His short arm stabbed it toward his eye.

"I am adopting you, Danny," Jack stated. "I told you, we're a family." Jack picked up the pen and took the hand sans tissue and placed the pen in it. "It's your choice."

It was his choice. Jack had been so understanding, he often wondered how the man didn't fall into a million pieces like he did so often.

No, wait, he knew why.

Daniel needed him. And now he saw Jack needed him, wanted him as well. So much that he was ready to imprint it across a million sheets of paper. And like a shoe print in cement, it would be permanent.

It was another step.

Sniffling, he reached his hand across the paper. He, very shakily, drew an "o" that was almost illegible.

That looked like a five-year-old wrote it.

He hiccupped, extended the pen to Jack and Jack let out a laugh. He took the pen and finished the word he'd started. He turned the page back Daniel's way.

Daniel O'Neill.

"Whatcha think? Last chance to change it."

It was perfect. He sniffed. Jack took the now crumbled tissue from his hand.

"Good. It's done then. So I'm thinking we drop it off, pick up Teal'c and Carter, and go get some ice cream in celebration."

"Chocolate," he said.

Jack stood up, knees cracking. He patted Daniel's head. "You got it." He picked up the stray sneaker from the floor. "Now where's your other shoe?"

Now he could say it was truly the beginning.

* * *

Back to Stories by Jennamajig. 


	4. 4 Slippery Shoes

**Author's Note: Wow, thanks again for all the reviews! I'm glad people are enjoying this little series that started as pure randomness :). This chapter is more little Daniel and Jack, with some Janet thrown in, but the next story is a prequel (how Daniel got small) and the story after that will involve Sam (perhaps with a dash of Teal'c, but he'll probably get his own story with Daniel eventuallyas well). As always, let me know if you like!**

* * *

**Slippery Shoes**  
(#4 in Shoelaces LD universe)  
by Jennamajig

* * *

SUMMARY: Daniel and Jack try to deal with Daniel being little Daniel. Inspired by the DJsSG-1Lverse yahoo list. 

SEASON/SPOILERS: None.

All things medical researched at some handy asthma websites. Hopefully I've gotten it right. Apologize greatly if I haven't.

DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.

* * *

He dangled his little legs over the side of the bed, staring at the Velcro straps of his sneakers as they swung back and forth gently. 

"I know how to use an inhaler, Janet."

Janet Fraiser loomed in the top his vision, a child-sized inhaler in her hands. Jack stood behind her he knew. He could see Jack's shoes. Janet leaned down and met his gaze. She gave him a half smile.

"I know that, Daniel. But things are..." She tripped over the last part of her sentence, so she just let it drop. "Humor me. Colonel O'Neill doesn't know how it works."

Great, reverse psychology. He knew he was being tricked and sighed. He stilled his feet, dragged one foot up to play with the Velcro and stuck the remaining thumb in his mouth, ready to use both as defense mechanisms. Take that, reverse psychology.

"Daniel."

In response, he got Jack's hand pulling his thumb out of his mouth. He frowned.

"Do we need this? I haven't had an attack since I was a ..." The word 'kid' died on his lips. He was a kid. And while he'd yet to have a major attack in the three and a half months since he was miniaturized, he had become significantly wheezier and his allergies were completely out of control. They'd yet to figure out how to treat them, either. It was like the first time he'd come to America all over again. He remembered his anxious mother and the fact that that first trip to New York only lasted a few weeks while his parents chatted with the museum and he wheezed and had an asthma attack severe enough to send him to hospital and add ten years to his parents' lives.

He resisted the urge to chew his thumb again and concentrated on the Velcro strapping.

He watched Jack and Janet exchange a look. Jack took the inhaler and sat down on the bed next to him.

"Like Fraiser said, I don't really understand these things, Danny. You know me and this stuff - goes right over my head."

He snorted.

"I hear that." He felt Jack reach for his hand and untangle it from his shoe. The inhaler was pressed into his hands.

"Danny. You don't want me to panic every time you have an attack. Because I can. Can call the big guns out and drag you to the emergency room every time I hear-"

He shook his head. "You're lying."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Am I now?"

He contemplated that sentence.

"Danny." He looked up and met Jack's eyes. They were tired,  
worried.

They were a family now. The papers were signed. He had a new name, new shoes.

A new life.

While for the first time in a long time he didn't feel tears threaten, he did feel sad. He felt like another chunk of Daniel Jackson was floating away, never to been seen or heard from again. The part that left asthma behind him, that had finally balanced his medication so that he could have fresh flowers in his kitchen. That had outgrown an insecurity.

He felt little.

He felt five.

The inhaler was now in his hand and he looked at it, blinking. Another step. A rediscovered a pair of tennis shoes you left in your closet that you found years later, thinking you'd left them behind, and poof, they are back haunting you with their same tiny gaps that let in the dirt and rain.

It felt like a step backwards, but he logically he knew it wasn't. A five-year-old brain could even tell him that. This time, it was the thirty-eight-year-old that was protesting.

The irony felt like a slap in the face.

"This one's different from the one I had," he relented.

"No different from the emergency inhaler I still made you hold onto offworld, Daniel," Janet offered and he knew she knew he was stalling.

"Right," he muttered, not having the heart to tell her he'd lost that inhaler long ago. He hadn't needed it, so it didn't matter. He didn't count on getting changed into a five-year-old who would probably be very dependant on such a device for the greater part of his adolescent years.

He'd still never need it offworld.

He cursed his thirty-eight-year-old brain. Maybe this whole thing would be easier if he'd just let go of that part of him. Try and embrace Daniel O'Neill and forget Daniel Jackson.

But he knew it didn't work that way. He was both of those people and his brain would never let him forget it, even if it meant the simple act of demonstrating an asthma inhaler caused a major overload.

He stared back down at the inhaler. "Well, if it's the same, than it's a dry power inhaler, right?" He looked up at Janet, who nodded. "Basically, I put my lips on here," he pointed to the mouthpiece, "and breathe in. Fast."

"Well, somewhat rapidly," Janet added. "Why don't you demonstrate?"

He gave her a 'do I have to' glance, but she held her ground. He lifted the inhaler, but quickly realized that his small hands had trouble gripping it and breathing in at the same time.

He started to panic when he realized that if he did have an attack, he was too small to help himself.

He heard himself wheezing and all he could hear was the blood pounding in his ears. Oh god, he thought, he couldn't breathe out.

He felt hands guide the mouthpiece to his mouth and hold the inhaler in place. He grimaced as the medicine taste hit the back his tongue. He heard "breathe" and concentrated hard on doing so.

Gradually, he could breathe again. He coughed, and pushed the inhaler aside. He realized then that Jack had been the one holding it in  
place.

"You lied. You know," he whispered as Jack put an arm around him. He leaned into the touch, still a bit wheezy.

"Fraiser did give me a crash course," Jack admitted.

Janet had her stethoscope out and was reaching the cold disk under his shirt. He gave a little shiver but didn't move, just tried to breathe as she asked. Finally she pulled it away, seeming satisfied.

"Probably more of a panic attack then anything," she said. She slipped the stethoscope back around her neck. "I'm sorry, Daniel. I didn't mean for this to happen. I just wanted to see you if could work the inhaler efficiently."

"Tricked me," he said, trying to be angry, but coming out tired and small. Truth was he was scared because he felt he couldn't work the inhaler efficiently. What if Jack wasn't there?

As if he could read Daniel's mind, Jack squeezed his hand.

He wasn't used to being so dependant on others. For food, clothes, shelter, love.

It was disconcerting and troubling. But nice. Jack's arms were warm and he wondered that how, in the future, he would be able to get hugs when he no longer needed so much help.

"So?" He blinked. Jack was talking again, this time to Janet.

"A nebulizer is a better choice, I think. At least for the time  
being."

He squirmed and shook his head. Nebulizers were awful, pushing more of the medication into his lungs. "No."

"Daniel, you're five-"

"Almost six," he corrected, even he though knew July was still six months away.

"Almost six," Janet conceded. "I know it's not really pleasant, but a nebulizer will be efficient, Daniel, and I am sure you know that. You will be able to use it yourself and all you need to do is breathe."

"Tastes bad," he answered. Jack patted his head.

"If it will work, we'll take it." Jack nudged his head toward an object laying on the opposite bed. Daniel frowned. "Is that it?"

"Yes." Janet picked up the facemask and held it in Daniel's view. He pulled his thumb to his mouth. "This goes over Daniel's mouth and nose and after a couple of pumps to machine, the liquid medication gets turned into a mist he can easily inhale."

"In case of emergency?"

"Yes, but it's also preventive. During extremely wheezy days, Daniel will probably need two or three treatments a day, each about ten to fifteen minutes."

Insecurity crept back in. His thumb was feeling the abuse. Bye, bye, Dr. Daniel.

Janet was walking away, promising to bring back some oral preventive medication, as well as antihistamines for his other allergy troubles. He'd be a regular walking medical chest, that's for sure. Jack wasn't going to like what he got himself into.

He blinked. What if Jack really didn't like what he was getting into? The papers had only just been dropped off, they'd yet to finalize anything.

He felt hands circle him tighter. He blinked again, surprised for a second time, that there were no tears.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

He saw Jack frown. "For what?"

"Being sick. I'll understand, you know." He wanted to give Jack an out.

"You're not sick. You have asthma." Jack's hand squeezed his again. "And family, remember? I don't just give my last name away to anyone, you know. O'Neills are special." He paused a moment. "It's a bit overwhelming, I admit. But things will get easier. You'll use the nebulizer. Then you'll get bigger and we'll go back to the inhaler."

"It would be easier if I was bigger now."

Jack sighed. "Been down that road, already. Sorry, kiddo, but we know it ain't happening. So we make the best. You and me. I'm not sure how long my knees will last, but hey, I've never been one to turn down a challenge." Jack tilted his head down and met his eyes. "Last time I checked, you didn't either. Or has that changed simply because you're smaller?"

"No."

"Then there. All settled. Fraiser doles out the meds, we pick up some paperwork for your desk, and then we get ice cream."

He could help grinning. "You think ice cream's always the answer."

"Well isn't it? Sure worked on a six foot archaeologist I know, so I figured it may just work on you."

"Jack."

"Daniel."

For a moment if he closed his eyes, he could pretend things weren't different. That his voice wasn't so soft and so small and that he and Jack were simply bantering in the middle of his lab. But things were different. And he was being stubborn, clinging to a hope that no longer existed. Every step he climbed, he still found himself with another hurdle.

Like slippery shoes that couldn't hold on to the surface without falling and had to get up once again and try.

"Thanks." He was thankful, grateful. If he didn't have Jack, he was sure he wouldn't be able to handle this. Sam, Teal'c, Janet, even Hammond, were kind, great, but only Jack understood him.

"No problem." They lapsed into comfortable silence.

Janet returned with more pills and more instructions. He pushed himself up, let Jack feel his chest like Janet instructed, trying gage normal from wheezy. He'd played with his Velcro strap again and wished for a Matchbox car when his mind wandered as Jack and Janet discussed antihistamines. Jack would take care it.

He stopped and realized something.

Jack would take of it and he would let him. Jack would help the insecurity, never let him feel stupid for having it. And he'd let him help. He needed Jack, Jack needed him. He just kept realizing how much a little more each day. Jack let him in. He'd have to let Jack in.

And he would. It would take time to adjust, but he would.

He smiled, and he even let Jack pick him up when his shoes slipped on the infirmary floor as his climbed off the exam bed.

Because despite all the insecurity, allergies, asthma, bad knees, ice cream, and poor humor - they were family.

* * *


	5. 5 Shoestrings

**Again, thank you for the reviews! Here it is, how Daniel got small. This chapter is from Jack's POV. Next chapter involves more Sam, I promise. :)**

* * *

**Shoestrings**  
(#5 in Shoelaces LD universe -- Prequel to Shoelaces)  
by Jennamajig

* * *

SUMMARY: Daniel and Jack try to deal with Daniel being little Daniel. Inspired by the DJsSG-1Lverse yahoo list. 

SEASON/SPOILERS: None.

DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.

* * *

Oh, crap. 

Those were the very first thoughts that entered Jack O'Neill's brain as he stared at his resident archaeologist. His six foot, brown-haired, four-eyed, allergy prone, archaeologist.

Who was now lucky if he could reach Jack's thigh.

Just peachy.

It was supposed to be an easy mission. Locals were friendly and Daniel was making headway. He'd found it slightly odd that the children on this planet appeared to be in charge, but he had encountered stranger situations in his time through the Stargate. The children were extremely intelligent and delightful and ranged from what appeared to be ages two through twelve. Daniel made quite the impression and the head' child, a boy about ten, dragged him into a small brick building. Jack made a move to follow, but another child shook her head.

"It is for him," she had explained. He glanced at Carter, who shrugged.

"They look harmless, sir."

"Of course they do, Carter, they're kids. Still doesn't mean they're not up to something."

Teal'c merely raised an eyebrow.

Thirty minutes later they were led inside, which brought him back to the problem at hand.

Yep, just peachy indeed.

"Jack?" The voice was small, hesitant. But despite the fact that they were now over shadowed by long blond bangs, there was no mistaking those blue eyes.

"Daniel?" The child blinked, clinging to the fabric of the now gigantic uniform shirt hanging off his frame. The pants were in a heap next to him, along with Daniel's bonny. In his left hand, he clutched the pair of now useless glasses.

"Yes."

Carter had entered behind him and grew wide-eyed at the sight. "Daniel?"

Little eyes blinked rapidly. Uh oh. Jack had seen that warning sign before. He knew what would follow "Sam?" The blinking increased.

Jack ran forward to sweep the archaeologist up before anyone saw him  
cry.

Ten minutes later, the children offered no explanation, no help, nothing of consequence, in fact. Except that Daniel was now a rugrat.

"It is wonderful!" the boy said, all smiles, like Daniel had just been granted the biggest wish in the universe.

Jack frowned. "No it's not. I don't think you understand." Jack stood towering over the head child in question. Daniel was wrapped in his arms. The man-turned-child was eerily quiet and Jack was determined he needed to fix this and get Daniel back to the SGC as soon as possible.

The child shook his head. "Wonderful! You will see."

He narrowed his eyes. He wasn't getting any answers. He stroked Daniel's soft head. "Daniel?" Blue eyes acknowledged him. They reflected sadness.

"Can they fix it?" he whispered and Jack's heart almost broke at the words.

He sighed. "Carter! Teal'c! We're heading back! Now!"

Jack soon learned the SGC wasn't making anything better.

"He's relatively healthy. A little small for his age," Janet Fraiser informed him.

Jack cringed. That wasn't what he wanted to hear. "And what exactly is his age? He looks like he's four."

"Five, actually. Like I said, small for his age." Across the room, Daniel sat on 'his' infirmary bed, swaddled in blankets, which, coupled with his size and the size of bed, dwarfed him even further. He stared at the grey infirmary wall. He'd said very little since Jack had placed him there.

"Sir, there's more." Fraiser laid her hands across Daniel's chart, bringing it across her chest.

"I know." Jack sighed. "He remembers."

"Yes," she agreed, pausing a moment before continuing, "He's upset, obviously. I need to run some more tests, of course, but despite high allergen levels and asthma which may be flaring up, his body has adjusted rather well."

Jack looked across the room. "I don't think that is adjusting." He ran a hand through his hair. "Can we fix it?"

Janet shook her head. "I haven't the slightest idea where to start."

"Just peachy," he muttered for what he felt like was the hundredth time since he'd stepped through the gate, pint-sized Daniel in tow. Leaving him on the infirmary bed had been difficult and Jack knew he was wasting time standing here when he should be trying to help his friend. He nodded to Janet, then headed toward Daniel.

When Jack reached him, the archaeologist pulled the blanket tighter around him. Jack sighed again and sat himself down on the gurney next to the younger' man.

"We'll fix it," were the first words out of his mouth.

Daniel turned his gaze to him. "How?"

He blinked. "I'm not sure, but we will."

"What if we can't?"

"We will." Daniel gave him a look and he relented a bit. "Well, we'll try."

Daniel stuck a small a small hand out of the blanket. "Look at me, Jack." He paused, blinked. "Though I remember..."

"Remember what, Daniel? Everything helps."

He gave a sigh, making his whole body shiver. He blinked and Jack couldn't help but think of how adorable Daniel looked. How small and helpless he appeared and how he wanted to pull the heap of blankets, child and all, onto his lap, and promise him it would all be all right.

But he couldn't. Didn't. Daniel was a thirty-eight-year-old man who happened to currently be in a five-year-old body. He was still his friend and he was upset. Jack felt awkward. He wasn't sure how to handle this situation, how to fix it, how to comfort. What Daniel expected him or anyone else to do, besides the still impossible obvious. Jack had no idea if he could imagine how and what Daniel felt.

Though Jack knew, if for some reason they couldn't fix this, he'd take Daniel in a heartbeat. No else would touch him. He'd retire if need be and they'd try and deal.

Even if he wasn't sure exactly how to start dealing with it himself.

"I remember," Daniel continued. "He said it would be good. I didn't know what 'it' was. I didn't think that ..."

"I know. Me either." He sat next to his friend, and part of him tried to pretend this was simple post-mission infirmary check and that he'd blink and Daniel would be normal. They'd banter, then grab Carter and Teal'c and get steaks and beers.

He wondered if Daniel was trying to imagine the same thing.

"Daniel I -" he tried, but fell short when he found himself unsure of what to say. Normally he'd use humor, poke a little harmless fun, but that felt wrong. Out of place and context.

Daniel blinked rapidly again and before he could stop himself, Jack reached out and patted the top of his head.

"It's hard," Daniel started, and Jack saw him trying to hold back the tears he knew lurked beneath. "I know I'm thirty-eight. But there's conflict. I'm confused. I feel-"

"Five?" Jack finished and Daniel nodded. Jack took a chance and moved his hand from Daniel's head to his shoulders and pulled his friend closer to him.

He was surprised when Daniel didn't protest and leaned into the embrace.

They sat that way until Carter came in, a shopping bag in her hand. She gave them a tight smile and held up the bag. "I wasn't sure about sizes, so I guessed," she offered.

"Thanks," Jack said, taking the bag with his free hand and glancing at the contents. Little blue shirt, jeans, and a small pair of white Keds, complete with shiny new laces.

"Don't thank me. Thank Walmart," she joked, and shifted her weight. She was awkward he could tell.

Daniel must have sensed it too, for he uttered a small "thank you" and "I'm okay" that sounded false. But Carter took it, gave another small smile, and left the two alone.

Jack lifted his arm, twisting Daniel out of his grasp. He reached into the bag. "Ready for some real clothes?"

Daniel blinked then finally nodded. He had to give Carter credit. The clothes were simple, nothing fancy, and nothing 'little-kid' about them. They were a little too big, but she'd done okay with the size guessing. She'd even gotten snap jeans, so Daniel's hand could easily open and close the fly, for which Jack was eternally grateful. He had placed the sneakers next to Daniel when Fraiser called his name.

"You okay?" Daniel was putting on socks and trying not to tip himself over in the process.

"I can tie my own shoes, Jack" he hissed and for a moment, Jack had a slight flashback to Charlie telling him almost the exact same phrase around the same age Daniel was.

He found himself rapidly blinking at his comparison as he headed Fraiser's way. She discussed test results, then Carter reappeared and told him Hammond was contacting both the Tokra and the Asguard as requested, but it might take time. He kept sneaking glances back at Daniel, waiting for the explosion.

It was when he saw Daniel reach for the shoelaces, he knew they were in trouble. A little fist slammed itself across the plastic chair the five year old sat in.

Jack reached him just in time to catch the shoe as Daniel threw it across the room.


	6. 6 Shoe Stepping

**Author's Notes: Sam's in this chapter; hopefully you like. I'm currently out of town visiting family for the weekend; laptop's with me but internet access isn't as frequent as usual for the next couple of days. But I try and write ahead of the game, so hopefully updates won't take too long. Thanks again for all the wonderful reviews! I never expected this story to snowball as much as it has and to get such a great response :).**

* * *

**Shoe Stepping**  
(#6 in Shoelaces LD universe)  
by Jennamajig

* * *

SUMMARY: Daniel and Jack try to deal with Daniel being little Daniel. Inspired by the DJsSG-1Lverse yahoo list. 

SEASON/SPOILERS: None.

DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.

* * *

He officially hated Walmart.

He hated its bright overhead lighting, convenient location, family appeal, cheap prices, and "absolutely adorable" children's clothing section.

Unfortunately, he found his vote didn't matter much when it came to shopping. He needed clothes; therefore shopping had to happen. Sam Carter decided his wardrobe had to expand beyond the few scattered pairs of jeans, shirts, and Velcro sneakers Jack had purchased on their last venture to the mall.

He supposed he should be grateful Sam hadn't dragged him there. Instead she'd conspired with Janet and the two decided Walmart would be easier, because they could get everything in one place. Daniel wasn't sure what "everything" meant exactly.

"Oh you know - belts, coats, socks, underwear, shoes. Everything," Sam told him as she belted him into the car seat. Daniel absolutely despised said car seat. But he was still five pounds short of legally weighing enough not to need it.

"But I have shoes," he insisted, playing with his Velcro straps as he spoke.

"You need more than sneakers," Janet piped in.

"Jack bought me dress shoes, too." He realized his voice was approaching a whine.

"Two pairs of shoes are not going to do it."

Of course not. In the female shoes realm, two pairs of shoes would simply not do. Why did Jack leave him alone with them?

Although...

...Without Jack present he may be able to con Sam into a Starbucks pit stop instead of simply settling for coffee ice cream from Ben and Jerry's.

That thought made him grin as Sam pulled into Walmart's parking lot. Five minutes later the three were knee deep in the boys department. Daniel walked around, thumb absently in his mouth, staring at the displays. He watched as Sam and Janet took turns throwing things in the cart they wanted him to try on. Sam apparently really liked the color blue. Or him in that color, at least. Come to think of it, whenever she'd dragged the thirty-eight-year-old him shopping, he'd come out of the store with a lot of blue items as well. For the most part, he was silent, only heaving a protest when Janet wanted him to sit in the child seat in the cart. The car seat was enough and he was then capable of walking.

Today was one of his more independent days.

Since trying to resign himself to the fact that he was indeed five and that the only way he would be thirty-eight again would be to wait the thirty-three years it would take him to get there, he'd been trying to balance his five-year-old emotions with the thirty-eight-year-old ones. It was a constant battle and it was tiring. Not just for him, but Jack as well. His best friend had willingly opened his arms to him, adopted him, even given him the choice of taking his last name and officially becoming part of his family, yet Daniel still struggled. Still took each victory he could. He had days where he'd cling to anything and everything, Jack especially. He had days where he wanted no help, wanted to do all himself and feel like old Daniel again. It was a balancing act. Gradually the tears weren't as frequent.

But the dreams were.

Dreams of his past life, good and bad, haunting his brain and leaving him wide awake at night staring at a dark ceiling and eerie shadows. Shadows that in his child's psyche morphed into horrible creatures out to get him. That's when the screaming started.

In less than sixty seconds, Jack would be up and in his room, arms around him. He would look up again and suddenly feel foolish. There was nothing there, nothing to be afraid of.

Yet the screaming didn't stop. Gradually, it did get better after many chants of "you're silly they are not real and you know that," but then he started making Jack check under his bed before he'd try and sleep every night.

"I'm sorry," he'd mumble and Jack would sit next to him on the bed.

"I told you to stop apologizing." He'd always hug him and remind him, "I'm right down the hall."

No one had ever made such a promise, before. Not since his father wished the evil spirits in his closet away decades before, miles away, in a different time and different place.

It was tiring, Daniel told himself again, and realized why Jack took Sam and Janet up on their shopping offer. He was hard work and Jack needed - no, deserved - a break.

He chewed on his thumb as he processed the new information. He'd have to be better. Be good. Jack couldn't keep doing this.

Neither could he.

So he was good, although when he saw Sam reach for a package of Spongebob Squarepants underwear, he drew the line.

"No way," he said.

Sam and Janet exchanged a look. Janet reached for a package with cars on them. For a split second, Daniel was excited at the prospect of wearing car underwear, especially one that resembled the set he had at home. Then the other half of his mind kicked in.

"No!" he said. He knew how it sounded. Didn't like to think about it.

This time Sam and Janet laughed. "Just checking. White it is." Into the cart the underwear went, along with a couple of sets of white socks. Cart now almost completely full, it was on to stage two.

He let Sam lead him to the dressing room, but insisted he could dress himself. He struggled out of his T-shirt and jeans and into the blue button-down shirt and khakis. He was quite pleased with himself when his hand reached for the buttons and he found himself unable to get the button through its intended hole. Even the khakis had a button at the top of the zipper he couldn't get closed.

He'd gotten used to many things. Even accepted the Velcro in place of shoelaces. Used the nebulizer on his wheezy days. But each time he was faced with a task that reminded him of his size and how it stopped him from completing most of the simple tasks he'd once taken for granted, he'd find himself starting over at square one.

"Daniel?" Sam was knocking on the dressing room door. He sighed. He reached up to the sliding lock, thanking the gods he could still work that piece of technology, opened it and presented himself to Sam.

"I can't..." He started, but found himself trailing off. He didn't really want to finish that sentence and state the obvious. Then it made the statement fact and he didn't like that.

Sam looked like she was about to say something, but Janet shook her head and silently stepped forward to button the shirt. When it came to the fly, she discreetly placed herself completely in front of him so no one witnessed the actual fact that she'd reached down and pulled the button closed.

Daniel flushed red from embarrassment.

Janet patted his head. "This is nothing, Daniel. Remember - I have seen you naked," she said as she reached down to straighten the collar. He blushed again. She stepped back and turned him around so he could see himself in the mirror. From the reflection he saw Janet and Sam nod positively.

"Perfect," they chorused and Janet went straight to unbuttoning.

He wished for Jack. Teal'c. Even General Hammond. A male perspective that wasn't undressing him and shoving him back into the room. This time, to further his embarrassment, Janet followed him.

Geez, he hadn't had that happen since that first trip to America when his mother took him to Bloomingdales to get a suit for the upcoming museum dedication. He supposed Janet was mother as well, though Cassie was way too old for this kind of help.

He suffered through the trying-on, tried to tell himself buttons were no big deal, and took pride when he could get his sneakers back on and fasten them himself. But he survived, shoe stepping and fancy-free.

And Walmart had a Starbucks in their food court by the check out. While Sam and Janet unloaded the cart and the amount they were spending grew larger and larger, Daniel's palm went into his pocket where a twenty-dollar bill from Jack laid. He told Daniel to take Sam and Janet for ice cream.

Ice cream, Starbucks - same thing. And he could certainly get something for Sam and Janet as well. He knew what they liked.

A glance back showed him Sam, Janet, and the cashier were trying to find out the price of a belt with no tag. The manager was approaching, an identical belt in hand.

He took advantage of the distraction and snuck past the line of cashiers through a closed check-out line. Thankfully, for once, there was only one person in line at Starbucks and she had just placed her  
order.

He could just taste the coffee at the back of his throat. He didn't even care that he didn't really reach the counter and that he had to slide his twenty dollar bill across to get the barista's attention. He wanted, no needed, coffee after this shopping experience. He told her his order, loud and clear.

"Um, where's your mom?"

He blinked. Mom? The barista was leaning across the counter to look at him.

Then he realized how he must look. He was five-years-old. Despite the fact that his thirty-eight-year-old part of his brain wanted the caffeine, he was still physically five. He saw his dreams of coffee fading.

"She's busy," he tried. "She sent me over with the money."

"Uh huh," the barista commented, disbelief coloring her tone. "How old are you?"

"Six." Maybe adding a year would help.

"He's five and he's not getting coffee." Sam was tapping her foot, hand on hip, looking old and blond enough to play the role of his pissed off mother.

Great. Busted. Bye, bye coffee. The Dr. Jackson part of his brain sagged in disappointment, as if he needed the coffee to survive. Maybe he did.

He didn't like that idea

Sam had taken his money back and Janet was pushing a cart full of bags toward them. She frowned.

"Coffee will stunt your growth," she told him.

"Old wives' tale and you know it," he said back.

"No coffee," the two chorused.

He frowned. "Can I have my money back?"

Sam sighed. "Of course you can." She looked at Janet, before turning back to him. "Colonel O'Neill did say you would treat us to ice cream."

"Coffee ice cream?" he asked hopefully.

Sam smiled. "Sure, you can have coffee ice cream."

"With mocha chips?"

"Don't push it." Daniel gave her a pleading look, heavy on the puppy-dog eyes. He knew she'd relent. She did. "We'll see."

He grinned; he was good.

Janet pushed the cart toward the exit and Sam offered him a hand.

He took it. It was a defeating blow, but a small victory. He'd survive. After all, Jack did have a coffee maker. And a soft spot every once in a while. It was no Starbucks, but nothing was really. It was just other conflict to overcome.

One step at a time. Shoe stepping and fancy-free.

Well, getting there at least.

* * *


	7. 7 Sandy Shoes

**Author's Note: As always, thank you for reviews! Hope you enjoy...**

* * *

**Sandy Shoes**  
(#7 in Shoelaces LD universe)  
by Jennamajig

* * *

SUMMARY: Daniel and Jack try to deal with Daniel being little Daniel. Inspired by the DJsSG-1Lverse yahoo list. 

SEASON/SPOILERS: None.

NOTE: I'm not sure and couldn't find the ages of Hammond's grandkids, so they are what ages work best for this story and I'm sticking to that.

DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.

* * *

He looked at the sandbox with disdain. 

"Jack, why are you making me do this?"

"Because it's fun."

"But there are little kids playing in there."

"Yes, there are. They're Hammond's grandkids. You've met them before."

He swallowed. "But I was ... you know, big, then."

Jack crouched down to his level. "So what? They just want to play. Besides, you survived way worse, and may I remind you, you like playing in the sand?"

"A dig is so not the same thing, Jack."

Jack shrugged. "You'll still end up digging up rocks. Tessa likes to hide them in there."

Daniel crossed his arms, realizing that with the slight pout on his face he probably looked adorable. That irked him. He didn't need to be adorable. Adorable earned "awwws" and stares.

"This isn't just an excuse to pity me about my lack of a childhood is it?"

Jack gave him a look that said 'I can't believe you asked that.' He sighed. "You're physically five, and although you hate to admit, you're also somewhat mentally five. Five-year-olds need to experience a sandbox, plain and simple. There's a life beyond Matchbox cars, you know." He pushed Daniel gently forward. "If it turns out to be the nightmare you're imagining, which I'm sure it won't, you can leave and I won't make you do again."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Still wary, he let Jack guide him in the direction of the sandbox. It was something he'd been dreading since his transformation - social interaction. The first time around it had not been a pleasant experience. When he was in Egypt and on digs with his parents, there were no other children, so he made friends with the adults. By the time they died, he'd been too smart and too traumatized to realize how important a first impression was to children. It branded you for life in the social scene.

Which was why he'd rather stay away from the sandbox. Jack was correct - he'd interacted with Hammond's grandchildren before. This was General Hammond's annual "welcome to spring" barbecue and the whole base and their families were invited. Hammond's property was overrun with people, including several children. Lou Ferretti's daughter, Laurie, sat in the sandbox with Keyla and Tessa and he knew the child had turned five shortly before his change. He'd discussed it with Lou, actually. Lou'd gone on about how she was so excited because they'd gotten her an ice cream cake this year.

Sure, he'd interacted with kids before, played with them, had fun. He figured he had an okay repartee with them, though Jack was far better when it came to those things. But that was an adult level.

And his status as an adult had officially been revoked.

Okay, he still worked for the SGC, following Jack into work, attending a few meetings and translating whatever was put in front of him. He'd taught SG-8 basic Latin the other day standing on a step stool in front of chalkboard so he could conjugate verbs. But there was no mistaking his childlike handwriting and the smirks he saw the men giving him now and then. If Jack hadn't been present, he figured the lesson might not have gone as well.

His house was gone - sold, the money tucked away into a savings account. Household items were scattered to friends; sacred items, like his picture of Sha're, were tucked in his current room, along side the new additions of Mummy coloring books and Matchbox cars. He still got a salary, but that too went into the bank. He offered his checkbook up when Jack bought him things, even when he bought groceries, but the man refused to take it. Jack told him that it was his money and that he should save it for rainy days. He wasn't sure what he'd ever need it for, but Jack pointed out that he'd get older and maybe would want to pursue another degree or two and college did cost the big bucks.

He'd frowned. He didn't think he could see himself doing anything but archaeology and languages, but he would admit the opportunity was nice.

Of course, all the degrees in the world would still not help him now.

They reached the sandbox. Kayla brightened when she saw Jack.

"Colonel Jack! You came!" she proclaimed, then Daniel saw her notice him. She pointed. "Who's he?"

Little kids sure got right to chase, Daniel realized, his own mind starting to make those leaps.

Jack smiled and patted him on the head. "This is Daniel."

Tessa looked up this time from the hole she was digging. "Like Dr. Daniel?"

He swallowed at her words. If only she knew. Jack snaked his hand down to Daniel's shoulder and gave it a little squeeze.

"Yep. They share the same name. But this Daniel here is my son."

Daniel swallowed again. It wasn't the first time Jack had referred to him as such, but it still felt wrong and right at the same time and still left him with that lump in his throat that never went away. His thumb crept toward his mouth.

Kayla frowned. "But you're not married," she accused and Jack laughed.

"You're right, I'm not. I adopted Daniel."

"What happened to his parents?" Tessa asked, dropping a rock into her now completed hole. She dumped a shovel full of sand on top of it.

Daniel looked at Jack. In the thumb went. Jack leaned down and carefully sat on the edge of the sandbox, pulling Daniel close to him.

"Well, honey, they died."

"Oh," Tessa said simply. "He must be sad."

He chewed down on the thumb, wishing this conversation would end. Why did he let Jack lead him to the sandbox?

"He is," Jack agreed. "But he's got me. Right, kiddo?" Jack meet his eyes, and while he was smiling, the gaze was serious. It offered him comfort and an out all in one glance.

No, Daniel knew. Jack was right. Time to take another step. He nodded and Jack reached up to take the thumb out of his mouth. Daniel's attention moved to his feet and second delaying tactic - playing with his Velcro straps.

"That's good," Tessa said. She turned to him. "Colonel Jack's the bestest! He plays with me and Kayla every time he comes over. You'll like him. He's almost as fun as Grandpa George. Do you know him? He's my grandpa." She smiled with satisfaction at her statement.

Daniel nodded again. He wasn't sure if he was really for verbal communication. Mentally, he kicked himself. He was a linguist who'd opened the lines of communication with several planets and he was having trouble uttering one word to a four-year-old.

"Good, then Grandpa George and Colonel Jack and me and Kayla and you and Laurie could play." Laurie had yet to enter the conversation. She sat at the far end of the sandbox, determined to fill her pail. Tessa pointed, then kept right on going. Daniel wondered when she stopped to breathe. "That's Laurie. She's five. Kayla's six and I'm this many." She held up four fingers proudly. "How old are you?"

Oh, she wanted an answer. He looked at Jack. Jack just nodded. "Five," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Then you're in the middle like Laurie. That's good."

Good for what, he thought as she continued.

"Do you like to dig? Kayla thinks it's stupid, but I like to find rocks and bury them and then dig them up later 'cause it's like finding buried treasure like in the movies or ar-ti-facts," she carefully pronounced the word like she'd been practicing, "like in Egypt, like Dr. Daniel told us."

She remembered, he realized. At last year's barbecue he'd mentioned Egypt when he saw Tessa liked to bury things in the sand.

He felt excited at the news. Before he could process the thought further, Tessa put a shovel in his hand and dragged him off of Jack's lap and into the sand. He felt a few grain creep into his shoes.

"Laurie!" she cried. "Daniel is gonna dig it up!"

Dig what up? He was confused and looked at Jack was grinning ear to ear.

Laurie looked up. "Really?" She scrambled the few feet toward Tessa. "I wanna see." She turned to him. "You're lucky, you know. She never lets anybody dig it up."

Tessa took his hand with the shovel and guided the shovel to a spot in the sand. "Dig there," she commanded and Daniel discovered he didn't really how an option.

He had dug about ten shovelfuls when he hit something. Tessa brightened. "You finded it," she told him.

Still confused at what it was, Daniel reached in and closed his small fingers around what he sound discovered was smooth and round. He pulled it out and found himself looking at a polished grey stone. In the middle was a small carving of a horse.

Tessa loved digging and horses General Hammond had told him at one barbecue. When he'd discovered the then three-year-old girl had pneumonia and was in the hospital, he'd found the stone at a local store, and thought of her. He'd presented it to Hammond and told him to tell her to get well soon.

"It's my favoritest," Tessa told him. "The buried treasure!"

It was a treasure, indeed.

"It's beautiful," he told her.

"Dr. Daniel gave it to Grandpa George and Grandpa George gave it to me when I was feeling yucky and had to go the hospital. It made me loads better. And you finded it and since you're sad 'cause your parents died and all it will make you feel loads better, too. It's magic," she said matter-of-factly.

He blinked and swallowed.

"Magic?' he whispered, barely able to get the word through his lips.

She nodded. "Yep."

"But it's yours," he insisted, but the little girl wouldn't take no for an answer.

"You need it more."

The lump was back. How could she know? She couldn't know. The brown haired girl just stared him in the eye and smiled.

"I have to bury all these." She pointed to a small group of rocks on the edge of the sandbox. "Wanna help?"

He felt Jack pat his head again. "I think I'll leave you guys to play. I'll be over by grill, Danny."

"Bye Colonel Jack!" chorused Tessa and Kayla. Tessa looked back his way.

"I'll dig one hole and you can dig another. Okay?"

"Okay," he found himself agreeing and soon was throwing himself into the task. In fact when Jack came back an hour later to persuade him to eat a hotdog, he was reluctant to leave the sandbox. But Tessa wanted a hot dog, too, so he ate and as dusk approached, found himself running along the lawn chasing fireflies with the rest of the children. He'd let his go free, much to Tessa's dismay. In the distance, he could see Jack sharing a smile with Hammond.

"I think Tessa has a crush on you," Jack teased a half hour later as he drove home.

"She does not," he countered, feeling the blush creeping up into his cheeks. In his palm lay the stone and he fingered its surface. He liked Tessa a lot, though he'd never admit it.

"Uh huh. You're a charmer, Daniel. When you were thirty-eight you were one, but now, well, you're irresistible."

"No way."

"Yes way." They stopped a red light and Jack turned back to look at him.

"Did you have fun?"

He paused and thought about it a moment. "I guess I did."

"Not so bad, then, being a kid. Not with a world full of Matchbox cars, sandboxes, and little girls, of course."

"Jack, that's dirty."

Jack just grinned. "Nah, most of you is five, remember? Lose a lot, gain a lot. And get a rock."

"Artifact," he automatically corrected.

"Artifact," Jack agreed. The light turned green and they continued on home. Daniel looked again at the stone in his hands.

"Jack?"

"Yes?"

"Can Tessa come over tomorrow?"

* * *

Back to Stories by Jennamajig. 


	8. 8 Speckled Shoes

**Author's Note: Here's the next one. As always, thanks for the reviews:)**

* * *

**Speckled Shoes**  
(#8 in Shoelaces LD universe)  
by Jennamajig

* * *

SUMMARY: Daniel and Jack try to deal with Daniel being little Daniel. Inspired by the DJsSG-1Lverse yahoo list. 

SEASON/SPOILERS: None.

NOTE: All things medical researched throughly. Learned wonderful things on great websites. Apologize if I got it wrong.

DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.

* * *

"Daniel, stop scratching."

"But it itches!"

He was miserable. His head hurt, he was achy, and he was covered in what seemed like a million little red dots all over every inch of his body, including a few choice areas he didn't even want to think about.

Chicken pox.

The stupid childhood disease he'd never bothered to get had decided to take advantage of his second youth and bite him in the butt.

Things had settled down after Hammond's barbecue and the weather was warming up, prelude to what Daniel hoped would be a beautiful summer. He was busy counting the days until July 8th, when he could finally say he was six years old and not five anymore. Not that one year made a difference, he was still small for his age and slow to gain the few pounds he needed to ditch the car seat taking up residence in Jack's SUV, but it was a start. Despite the fact that he'd settled into his new life, new path, whatever one wanted to call it, and the upcoming eight month anniversary of his journey back to childhood, every so often the SGC would try and dial through to the planet where Daniel found himself in this predicament in the first place.

It had yet to engage, as if it never existed in the first place.

It was an eerie thought, but frankly Daniel had other things on his mind. Like how he was going to reach the extremely itchy spot on his back.

Two days ago, Hammond informed Jack that Tessa had the chicken pox. Jack's reaction was to take him straight to the infirmary and ask Janet about the chicken pox vaccine.

"It won't work this late in the game. He was exposed a week ago. If we caught the exposure within forty-eight to ninety-six hours, maybe we could cut it off at the pass. Now if he's going to get them, it will be very soon. But children are very resilient, Colonel, and you know that. They bounce back from this sort of thing faster then a rubber ball. I'd be more concerned if Daniel had been exposed when he was thirty-eight."

"But what about his asthma? I saw this article about corticosteroids and chicken pox-"

Janet had held up a hand and smiled. "Frankly, sir, I'm a bit surprised and impressed you've been researching. But it's unfounded, really. Those are isolated cases and they all involved oral steroids. Right now Daniel's on inhaled preventive steroids. He's yet to have an attack severe enough to warrant orals, so his system is clear."

Daniel had swung his legs under the gurney, thumb in mouth. Jack was such a worrywort. He may never have had the chicken pox, but how bad could they be?

Looking back on it, he realized he was eating his words. They weren't just bad - they were hell. He reached towards his back.

"Daniel."

He withdrew the hand. "I know, I know. Scarring. But it itches!" He was whining, plain and simple, and he knew it.

Jack sighed. "I know it does. I can run another oatmeal bath."

"But it smells and feels funny."

"Calamine lotion, then."

"It's sticky."

"Danny, I'm running out of solutions. I'm this close to duck taping oven mitts on those little hands of yours."

"You wouldn't."

Jack give him a look that said 'wanna bet? Try me' and Daniel snuggled deeper into the folds of the living room couch.

"I feel yucky," he proclaimed, his five-year-old mind wanting the problem to disappear when the older part of his brain told him it just didn't work that way. It was frustrating.

And itchy.

Jack sat down next to him. "I know you do, kiddo. The bath does help, even though it smells and feels weird."

"I know," he admitted, "but can't Janet just make them go away? I'll take pills or that disgusting pink stuff. I promise."

Jack curled a hand around his shoulders. "You and I know that it doesn't work that way. It's only a couple more days and then they'll crust over and you will feel a million times better. Ya gotta trust me on this one."

"I'll believe it when it happens."

Jack smiled. "Of course you will." He felt Jack place a hand on his chest and the smile disappeared. "Feeling a little wheezy there, kiddo?"

He did. Pollen was in the air and his allergies were really beginning to flare, which in turn affected his asthma as well. Coupled with the itchiness, it made him one unhappy camper. But he refused to admit it. "I'm fine."

"Uh huh," Jack responded nonchalantly. "I think the neb wouldn't hurt."

"I'm fine, Jack. Really. Don't need it." He hated the nebulizer. While the medication helped his breathing immensely, it left him jittery. And the taste it left on his tongue was just as awful as it had been back in the 70s.

"It's not that bad."

"How would you know? You're not that one being forced to use it."

Jack patted his head. "Since you're sick, I'm going to ignore that little bit of attitude."

"I'm sorry, Jack, but I don't need it." He pulled up his best puppy dog expression to plead with Jack.

"Oh, no. That look isn't going to work on me. Carter may buy it, even Fraiser may cave every now and then, but not me." He got up off the couch. "You forget, Daniel, I know the thirty-eight-year-old you too well. You sit tight."

He was losing his touch. The two halves of his brain would need to regroup and form a different strategy against the Air Force Colonel.

Jack returned, nebulizer in hand. He placed in on the table, pumped the machine twice and guided the mask to Daniel's face. Daniel grimaced.

"Yucky," he proclaimed, but continuing breathing in the fumes.

Jack smiled. "You really need to expand your vocabulary. I know you have way better words in that brain of yours."

Oh he sure did, he thought, but bit his tongue on a comeback. Though he didn't really believe it would happen and that Jack only used it as an empty threat on occasion, he didn't relish the idea of Jack washing his mouth out with soap.

Jack settled on the couch and pulled Daniel into his lap, still holding the mask in place. Daniel picked at the lint on his blanket and the two sat in comfortable silence a few minutes while the medication did its job.

"It's not so bad," Jack said, absently stroking Daniel's hair. "This I mean, not the meds."

"This?" His voice was slightly muffled by the mask.

Jack lifted his hand to point to the two of them. "You and me." He sighed. "I needed this, Daniel. And if for some reason we do ever find out how to make it all right again, I want to you to know that. Even though it's not easy, you're giving me something special that I never realized how much I missed. You're a gift. Big and small."

He was surprised. Jack didn't admit feelings much and sometimes it was so hard to pry things out of him he thought he'd need the Jaws of Life. Not that he was any better, at least before he shrunk and found his emotions impossible to always control. They were the perfect pair, the two of them. He snuggled into Jack's embrace and looked up to see Jack smile. It was such a beautiful sight. Jack looked content and he realized he'd never really seen that look on his friend's face.

He didn't want to do anything to take it away. Even if it meant his brain was at war for the rest of his life. He smiled and tugged on Jack's hand to pull the mask away.

"Sorry I didn't gift wrap it," he told him with a smirk. "Though I could always stick a bow on my head if you want."

Jack laughed.

"You don't need any ribbons, kiddo. I prefer you right out of the bag. Fresher that way." He pulled the mask back up to Daniel's face and pulled him closer. "When this is done, how about that bath?" His other hand began stroking Daniel's hair once again.

"Sounds good," Daniel agreed, although if he didn't move from this very spot it would be fine. In fact, he realized, now he actually had the perfect leverage to reach that very itchy spot on his back.

Jack's hand was around his before he could even try to scratch. "Don't even think about it."

"But Jack..."

"No scratching."

"It itches!"

Jack squeezed his hand. "Yep, I'm sure it does. But it'll get better."

Itching, wheezy, covered with spots, Daniel knew he was right. Things would get better. In many ways, they already were.

* * *


	9. 9 Supermarket Shoes

**Here's the next one, mostly humor this time with a small helping of Teal'c. As always, thanks for the reviews as they help feed the muse. :)**

* * *

**Supermarket Shoes**  
(#9 in Shoelaces LD universe)  
by Jennamajig

* * *

SUMMARY: Daniel and Jack try to deal with Daniel being little Daniel. Inspired by the DJsSG-1Lverse yahoo list. 

SEASON/SPOILERS: None.

DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.

* * *

He had a hard time sitting still in the hard plastic seat. Instead he grasped the back of the chair and spun around.

It made him dizzy, but oddly, he also wanted to do it again. McDonalds sure was a totally different place when you were five.

"Eat one more chicken nugget."

"But they're cold. I don't like 'em cold."

"Well, Daniel, if you'd been eating before, then it would have been eaten and not cold. Hurry up, we've still got pick up Teal'c and run errands."

He spun around in the chair again. "Errands are boring. I wanna play in the ball pit."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "You want to what?"

He stopped his chair. "Play in the ball pit. You are always telling me to be a kid. Well, I can fit now." He pointed to the play area. "It has a slide."

Jack glanced over at the play area, and appeared to mulling something over. "Yes it does." He picked up the box of chicken nuggets. "Eat the last nugget and you get ten minutes."

"No way! That's bribery."

"Yes, it is." He shook the box. "This goes in the garbage and I'm belting you back into the car right now."

He grabbed the box, thrusting the last nugget into his mouth.

"This is so not fair, Jack," he muttered around the nugget.

"Now, Daniel, it's not nice to speak with your mouth full."

He gave Jack a glare and swallowed. "I still think it's not fair. You can't tell me what to do. I'm not a little ..."

"Kid?" Jack finished. He handed Daniel a napkin. "You have ketchup on your cheek."

He took the napkin and after three swipes was unsuccessful in reaching it. He sighed as Jack still pointed at his cheek.

"I need help."

Jack smiled and reached for his cheek. "I know, Daniel."

"I can do things myself," he insisted, even though it never seemed to be true. It was frustrating. And to top it all off, he still really wanted to play in the ball pit.

"Of course you can. But help's not such a bad thing. I helped you when you were thirty-eight, too."

"Yeah, but that's different." He played with the Velcro on his shoes before sticking his thumb in his mouth. "I'm different," he mumbled around the digit.

Jack pulled the thumb out and shook his head. "That's just it, Daniel. You're not. You're just little. You're still Daniel. Stubborn and annoying at times, but still Daniel."

"O'Neill," he muttered. "Not Daniel Jackson." He swung his legs back and forth.

"That may be so, but last time I checked, a different last name doesn't give someone a brain transplant. Sara certainly pointed that one out to me often enough." Daniel felt Jack pat his head. "Still want to go in the ball pit?"

He nodded.

"Good. Ten minutes. And give me your shoes and your car. I don't want you to lose it."

"Jack..."

"I'm serious, kiddo. Remember what happened at the pool?"

"It just fell in!"

"Sure it did. Car?"

"Here." He pulled the yellow car out of the pocket of his overalls and reluctantly placed it in Jack's hand.

"Good. Go play. I need to check the grocery list."

"Grocery list? Can we get Starbucks ice cream?"

"Starbucks makes ice cream?"

"Uh huh." Duh. Jack should know this.

He saw Jack shake his head again. "What am I thinking? Of course they do." He looked at his watch. "Nine minutes. You are wasting valuable ball pit time."

"I'm going, I'm going."

Ten minutes later, Jack had to practically pry him out of the pit. He'd managed to start a ball war with another five-year-old and was winning when Jack called time.

"I was winning you know," Daniel told Jack as he reached for belt to secure him in the car seat.

"I saw. You know, I think you may have better aim as a five-year-old than you did as a thirty-eight-year-old."

"Very funny." He frowned as Jack pulled the latch closed. "When can we get rid of this stupid thing? I am not a baby."

"Colorado law, kiddo. Five more pounds and we'll take it out to the driveway and I'll break out the baseball bats."

"Really?" He brightened at the prospect.

Jack smiled. "As long as the neighbors don't complain. Do you know how hard that thing is to secure to the back seat? We'll both be celebrating when it's gone."

Happy with that small piece of news, Daniel stared out the window while Jack drove. After one quick stop to pick up Teal'c, they were off to the grocery store. The Jaffa had yet to master the art of food shopping since acquiring his own place outside of the SGC. Daniel, however, thought it was an excuse to use Teal'c as backup. Previous grocery shopping trips had been far from crisis-free.

The first time, Daniel had refused to sit in the cart and insisted on walking. His shorter attention span soon got the upper hand, however, and when Daniel tried to ride on the bumper of the cart, he lost his grip and slid into a display. Six stitches and three weeks later, they tried again. Daniel sat in the seat in the cart this time, but tried to sneak coffee into the cart in any way possible. However, his sneakiness led to an entire coffee display falling before their very eyes.

After that, Jack decided that he would either do the shopping alone or with back-up. Sometimes it was Sam, but most of the time, Teal'c came, pushing his own cart alongside Jack's.

Daniel pretended not to be insulted, but the truth was, he knew he needed to be watched and he hated it. It was yet another piece of his independence that had disappeared and it seemed that he had very few pieces left. Jack tried, he did. But he was five now, and even Jack couldn't ignore that fact. Jack was his appointed guardian; Daniel needed him to sign off on everything, it seemed, from his bank account to his medical treatment. Yes, hugs and family togetherness were a huge plus, but the cons still reared their ugly head. A lot.

He sighed as they entered the supermarket. Knowing what was next, he let Jack lift and settle him into the cart. Jack patted his head and handed him his Matchbox car.

"Limit your impulse buys, okay?"

"Uh huh." He was too busy driving the car on top of Jack's knuckles as he gripped the cart. Of all the things he'd gotten used to, his shorter attention span was something that always caught him off guard. He wanted to control it, but never could.

Shopping always started out well, and this time was no different. Jack started by the deli and made his way down each aisle. Teal'c bought up the rear, just like it was a mission through the Stargate. Of course, no Stargate trip had Teal'c purchasing five pounds of ham, sliced thin. The woman at the deli counter always looked surprised at the order, despite the fact that it had been the same the last five times Teal'c went shopping with them.

He got to hold the bread so it didn't get smushed, and liked to kick his feet back so they hit the cart, shaking its contents.

"Daniel..." Jack warned as he surveyed the cereal selection.

"I didn't do anything," he insisted. Teal'c raised an eyebrow.

"It is not wise to lie, Daniel O'Neill."

Busted. "Right." He pushed his car along the cart's handle again. "I want Coco Puffs."

"Those are pure sugar," Jack said.

"So? Fruit Loops aren't better. It says so right on the side of the box."

Jack dumped the Fruit Loops into the cart anyway. "Coco Puffs have chocolate in them, which, as you are well aware, has both sugar and caffeine in it. I do not need a sugar and caffeine high pint-sized archaeologist running around the house."

"I resent being called pint-sized. And I won't be hyper, I promise."

Jack gripped the handle of the cart to stare him in the eyes. "Wanna bet? Who was up till 3 a.m. two nights ago because those sly little blue eyes convinced Sam to let you have just one little cup of coffee with the rest of us?"

He blinked. "I hardly think that's relevant. I did sleep."

Jack snorted. "Till 11 a.m.! I had to carry you out to the car and you missed a meeting we'd scheduled with SG-9."

"We still had that meeting."

"Daniel..."

He crossed his arms. "Jack..."

He watched Jack sigh.

"I believe it would be in your best interest to 'let sleeping canines lie,' Daniel O'Neill."

"That's dogs, Teal'c, but thank you. We can compromise, kiddo. How about Lucky Charms? You like marshmallows."

He did. But he'd wanted chocolate. However, they had yet to reach the freezer aisle and if he played nice now, Starbucks ice cream might soon be in his possession.

"Okay," he agreed, and another box went in the back. Teal'c selected a box of Captain Crunch, and to the new aisle they went.

Daniel brightened at the sight of freezer doors. "Starbucks. Ice cream."

Jack grinned. "Now who said anything about Starbucks ice cream?"

"Jaaaack."

"Just kidding. One pint, nothing fancy."

"They're all fancy. It's Starbucks." Jack stopped in front of the ice cream freezers and Daniel pulled the door open, leaning over the cart so far so much that he almost fell into the freezer himself. But the chill was worth it and he held his prize in his lap, coldness and all.

Jack was squinting at the price label. "I can see the Starbucks' price carries over from the counter as well. Would you look at this, T? This is highway robbery."

"I can pay for it." If money was a problem, he had plenty. And Jack told him to save it for a rainy day. Starbucks ice cream was his rainy day.

"I know you can, but I got it. We made a deal, remember?"

"I remember. But even though I'm small, they still pay me more than they pay you."

An attractive, young, brown-haired woman who had been browsing through the freezer next to them, looked up, confused. Jack patted Daniel's head.

"Child actor. Those commercials sure can pay a bundle." She looked a little unconvinced, but once Jack flashed her a smile, she smiled right back.

"Well he is certainly adorable enough."

"Most of the time, yes," Jack agreed. Daniel almost gagged. If he didn't know better, he'd swear Jack was flirting with the woman. He crossed his arms and looked at Teal'c, who raised his eyebrows in response.

The woman laughed. "Kids can always be adorable when they want to be. How old is he?"

"Five."

"So big," she crooned and Daniel resisted the urge to drop a heavy grocery item on her foot. Instead, he smiled sweetly and decided he'd had enough of her batting her eyelashes at Jack. Next she'd notice Teal'c and all hell would break loose.

"Daddy." Smile still in place, he tried to sound as cute as a five year old could humanly be. "I have to go potty. Now."

Jack shot Daniel a glare before bidding the woman farewell and pushing the cart out of the aisle.

"I can't believe you did that," he hissed.

"I can't believe you were flirting with her. She's at least twenty years younger than you!"

"I was not flirting! And besides, you don't think I can get a woman that young. You may have gotten all the alien girls before, Daniel, but I'm not chopped liver."

"You were clearly using me as a flirtation device. Your actual flirting skills need work." Daniel shot a look in Teal'c direction. "Right, Teal'c?"

"I believe my best course of action is to stay out of this conversation, Daniel O'Neill."

"Easy out," Jack muttered, "and my flirting is fine." Daniel noticed they'd begun heading towards the rear of the store.

"Where are we going, Jack?"

Jack smiled, stopped the cart and gestured up. Daniel followed his gaze to the supermarket's restrooms.

"You had to pee. So you're gonna."

"But the ice cream is melting," he said. Plus, he didn't have to go and even if he did, that meant Jack would have to accompany him because his little fingers couldn't undo the buttons of his overalls.

Jack smiled. "Then you better make it fast. Teal'c will give you a hand."

Daniel looked at Teal'c, prepared to bring out the puppy dog eyes, but Teal'c was grinning. Actually grinning. He sighed and realized it might just be impossible to have a supermarket trip without a least one small incident.

Next time, Sam better come. That way, at least, she'd be on his side.

* * *


	10. 10 Spotted Shoes

**Thank you again for the reviews as usual. More Sam will come eventually, although I am not a Sam/Jack fan so this story is staying GEN and focusing on friendship. But other than that, it's all up to the muse, really and she can be a little wild :).**

**Oh, andthe answer a couple of reviewers asked- Nope I don't have a five-year-old. No kids as I'm still looking for Mr. Right to have kids with, so if you see him, send my way :). But I am the oldest of four kids (the only gal too)and have extremely young first cousins (we're talking20+ younger than me)that I see and babysit a lot, and yes, they are all around five, and mainly boys. So they are my inspiration b/c I love them all.**

* * *

**Spotted Shoes**  
(#10 in Shoelaces LD universe)  
by Jennamajig

* * *

SUMMARY: Daniel and Jack try to deal with Daniel being little Daniel. Inspired by the DJsSG-1Lverse yahoo list. 

SEASON/SPOILERS: None.

DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.

* * *

"We don't need one." 

"Of course we do. Every family needs one."

"No, they don't, Jack. Plenty of families have lived without one. Besides, where would it go when we go to the SGC?"

"I'm pretty sure it would stay in the house. General Hammond probably wouldn't like it running around the halls very much."

"Jaaack. That's not what I mean."

"Really? Then you have to be more specific, kiddo. Because you're losing the argument here."

"Where does it go when you go off-world?"

Jack crouched down to his level. "In case you haven't noticed, I haven't been off world in six months."

He frowned. "I know. But General Hammond wants you to go. I even hand-picked Ben Roberts for you."

"Dr. Roberts isn't you, Daniel. Besides, these last six months have been busy. Plus, if I do go off world, then you need some company."

"I'll have Janet. She's fine. Plus she already has one at her house."

"Yes, but it isn't yours. You'll see. It's different."

He sighed.

A dog.

Jack was taking him to pick out a dog.

He didn't need a dog. He thought he was allergic to dogs, but at their most recent visit to the dreaded allergist, the man had informed him that, much to Jack's delight and his dismay, he was not, in fact, allergic to dogs. Allergic to almost everything else under the sun, yes, but not dogs. Thus Jack got the idea into his brain that Daniel needed a dog.

Daniel did not need a dog. They were hyper and demanding and always wanted to lick you. Funny, he considered himself a welcoming person, but that welcoming didn't include dogs. The SGC would probably faint from the discovery.

In his various foster homes, he'd lived in a few with dogs. And no, he didn't have a horribly traumatizing dog attack that emotionally scarred him and swore him off dogs forever. He also didn't make friends with one of the creatures and only to be melodramatically parted from it when he headed off to his next placement.

No, he simply liked other animals. Camels, fish, even cats. All self-sufficient, save for a little grooming, food, and water every now and then.

Much easier to keep your distance from, really.

Okay, so maybe he harbored an emotional scar or two, but it wasn't dog related. He was perfectly happy with it being just he and Jack. No four-legged creatures allowed. He wasn't sharing. Jack was his.

He sighed again. When had he become so possessive?

Jack pulled into the parking lot of the local shelter and he knew that Jack wasn't leaving here without a dog. So five minutes later, he was clutching Jack's hand as they walked up and down rows of kennels and cages, every dog barking as if to say "pick me!"

He blinked. There was another reason he didn't want to come here. Even if he didn't like dogs, they deserved a good home with someone who would take care of them.

Kinda like a shy, traumatized eight-year-old who wasn't talkative enough and was too smart and only wanted to say "pick me!" and have someone take him home forever.

The tears started to roll down his cheeks. He felt hands pick him up and cuddle him.

"Kiddo, what's wrong? I'm sorry. If you really don't want a dog-"

"No," he managed. "I want one. Really. But they all need homes. What happens to the one we don't pick?"

Jack wiped as his eyes. "We can't take all of them. You know that."

"But why?" He sniffed. "Why not?"

"That would be a lot of dogs."

Another sniff. "I know. I'm being silly."

"No, you're not. You're being human."

"How am I supposed to pick just one?" He blinked again. "Why do I have to send the rest away to anther place where someone else won't want them?"

Jack brushed Daniel's bangs off of his forehead. "Something tells me we're not talking about a dog anymore, are we?"

More sniffling. The thumb went into his mouth. "Maybe."

Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out a tissue. "I picked you, Daniel. Doesn't that feel good to know?"

He let Jack dry his eyes. "Yeah."

"Then imagine how good it's going feel to one of those dogs, then." He finished wiping Daniel's eyes and placed him back down on the ground. "Go for it."

Casting one more wary glance at Jack, he scanned the cages. Despite his caring nature, he still wasn't all that fond of dogs. That is, until one caught his eye.

It was a Dalmatian, lying on the floor of its cage; its head just flopped down. It didn't bark at him like the other dogs. Instead, its big sad eyes met his and he saw himself in the reflection of the dog's irises.

"I want that one," he said and pointed directly at the dog. Jack turned to look.

"A Dalmatian, huh? Well, he sure is pretty."

"It's a she, actually." Daniel turned and saw the woman who'd first greeted them at the shelter.

"She," Daniel repeated and reached his finger into the cage to stroke the dog's head. She didn't move, just closed her eyes as he moved his finger back and forth across her fur.

"Wow," the woman commented. "She must like you. She hasn't reacted much to anyone since she got here."

"Really?" Jack asked. "Why?"

"It's sad, really. We found her after her owner had passed away. She belonged to an elderly woman with no family. She died in her kitchen and was discovered by a neighbor almost two days later. Unfortunately, the woman had no family and no one could take in the dog. We think she's a bit depressed."

"She misses her mom," Daniel said, matter-of-factly. The dog opened its eyes on the statement as if it understood every word he had said. He smiled. She was like him. All alone.

"She does," the worker agreed. "She's a very well-behaved dog, especially for a Dalmatian. And fairly young, too. Our vet says she's only two years old. Already spayed and gotten her vaccinations as well."

Daniel looked at Jack, who grinned. "We'll take her."

The woman brightened. "Wonderful! You do have to go through our approval process, but since you own your home and have a spacious yard, it shouldn't take too long."

Daniel reached out to pet the dog through the bars again. "Hear that," he said, "You're coming home with Jack and me." She closed her eyes again and Daniel just knew it, just felt it. "She's perfect," he told Jack.

Jack knelt down slowly and reached his own finger into the cage. "That she is, kiddo." Not stopping his stroking, Daniel watched Jack turned to the woman. "What's her name?"

"Oh, of course! Forgot that," she smiled. "Her name is Dannie."

Daniel just grinned.

* * *

Back to Stories by Jennamajig. 


	11. 11 Father's Day Shoes

**This one is in honor of Father's Day. Happy Father's Day to all the dads of the world, including my very own awesome father. :)**

* * *

**Father's Day Shoes**  
(#11 in Shoelaces LD universe)  
by Jennamajig

* * *

SUMMARY: Daniel and Jack try to deal with Daniel being little Daniel. Inspired by the DJsSG-1Lverse yahoo list. 

SEASON/SPOILERS: None.

DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.

* * *

"I can make something else if you don't like it, Daniel." 

He pushed the carrots and mashed potatoes back and forth on his plate. His newly adopted Dalmatian, Dannie, lay at his feet, no doubt hoping he'd drop something. "No, everything's fine."

Daniel heard Janet sigh. "He'll be home the day after tomorrow."

"I know." He picked up a carrot and purposely dropped it. Dannie snagged it before it even had a chance to hit the floor.

"Daniel!"

He put his fork down. "I'm not hungry and she is."

"She has dog food in the kitchen."

"So?" He picked up his fork again and began drawing circles in his potatoes.

He missed Jack. It was the first time he'd spent a significant period of time away from the man since his transformation. The five-year-old in him was depressed, although if he was truly being honest, the thirty-eight-year-old wasn't completely honky-dory, either. Despite the constant battles that it had with itself, both part of his brain identified safety with Jack.

Identified home.

It was silly, really. Janet's house was safe, just like Sam's, Teal'c's, even General Hammond's. But it wasn't Jack's.

Jack was offworld on a training mission. He'd encouraged Jack to go, stood in the Gate room and waved good-bye as he walked through the wormhole. Told himself he'd see Jack again in only two days and tried to not to dwell on the fact that he wasn't going with him.

Perhaps that was it, partially. He was jealous. Jealous of a life that currently didn't exist and would, in all likelihood, never exist again in the same form. Oh he could grow, stay with the SGC, and maybe be able to go through the Gate when he was physically eighteen and legal once again. But, of course, that was still light years away.

Either way, he wanted Jack home, selfish as it sounded. But it was also complicated.

See, tomorrow was Father's Day. It was a day he hadn't enjoyed since his parents' deaths. Parental holidays meant little to a foster child with no permanent parent. Yet he could still remember the day when he presented his father with the gift he'd made - a drawing of him with his father, and "I love you, Daddy" spelled out in hieroglyphics. He'd never seen his father grin so wide that one would have thought he'd won a million dollars. Daniel hoped to experience that moment with his own child, and he and Sha're had tried, but he guessed it wasn't meant to be.

Instead, he figured this must be meant to be, at least in the universe's twisted mind. As a five-year-old he was surprised to find himself looking forward to the holiday. His motor skills weren't as strong as he liked, but he managed to draw Jack a picture of the two of them, and write 'Daniel' in the corner. Then Jack had a mission and didn't mention the date at all. Daniel figured it was equally hard for him as well, with Charlie and all. Still, as childish as it sounded, he wanted Jack home on Sunday and wanted to present him with the picture.

And maybe, just maybe, hope for at least a fraction of that smile his father gave him.

Once again, he realized, being five was complicated. He stabbed a carrot.

"Cassie made cake." Janet was bribing him.

"Yep, chocolate," Cassie agreed. "Your favorite."

He dropped the carrot to Dannie.

"Oh, for Pete's sake." Janet sighed and got up, picking up Daniel's plate and presenting it to Dannie. "At least it won't go to waste. Cassie, go find the dog treats because Jack'll be jealous."

The "Jack" she was talking about was Cassie's dog. Said dog in question had spotted the plate and was heading towards Dannie. Cassie nodded and took her plate to the kitchen. Janet patted Daniel's head.

He frowned. He only liked Jack touching his head.

"He'll be back on Monday." She sat down next to him as Cassie came out with a large cake and placed it on the table.

"Monday's too late," he whispered, head down. He felt Janet's hand tip his chin back up and force him to meet her eyes.

"Monday is two days away, Daniel. It will be here before you know it."

She didn't understand. "But tomorrow's Sunday."

She looked confused. "Yes, it is. Sunday usually comes after Saturday and before Monday. At least on this planet."

He sighed. Cassie placed a piece of cake in front of him.

"Mom, tomorrow's June 19th."

"So?"

"It's Father's Day. I just remembered. Dominic was telling me all about this family get-together he has tomorrow because of it."

"Oh." He heard the pity in her voice and he hated it. Hated its sentiment and hated even more the fact that it was bothering him that Jack wouldn't be home on such a day.

"I'm fine, you know. You don't have to feel sorry for me." He was fine. Really.

Janet smiled. "Of course." She took the plate Cassie was handing her. "Please eat the cake, at least, Daniel."

She was trying, he knew. She wasn't the cause of his depression. He picked up his fork and managed to eat at least part of the cake. It was very good, but each piece still felt like lead in his stomach. Janet took the plate from him when she saw he wasn't going to make anymore progress.

"This is really stupid," he said.

"No, it's not." She paused. "I know things are different and I'm sorry that I-"

"It's not your fault," he interrupted, "and I never expected you to work miracles. Okay, well, maybe for a little while I hoped you could."

She gave him a small smile. "I really wish I could, sometimes. It would make my job easier."

"It's not so bad," he admitted. His thumb started to inch towards his mouth again, but he forced it to his side. His five-year-old persona had no qualms about using his thumb for comfort, but his thirty-eight-year-old self knew it was a bad habit, and making him look even more childish than he already appeared. But like most other things, it was a habit he found out of his control.

"I drew Jack a picture," he told Janet, and was proud of that, despite the fact he had absolutely no idea why he had just shared that piece of information.

"You did?"

"Uh huh. But it's at home." In the thumb went and he knew it was useless to try to pull it out when it felt so oddly right.

"He'll love it just as much when you show him on Monday."

He shook his head. "It won't be the same."

"Well, I suppose not," she admitted and reached out to comfort him when the phone rang.

"Mom!" Cassie called from the kitchen. "It's for you! The SGC!"

"Just sit tight. I'll take it in living room," she called and left Daniel at the dining room table contemplating his thumb, Father's Day, and the universe in general.

Three minutes later, Janet was rushing back into the room and calling for Cassie. Daniel bit down on his thumb. Something was wrong.

Jack, he thought. Please don't be Jack.

Cassie came in, her hands still wet, probably from doing the dishes. "Do you have to go in?"

"Yes, I do. SG-1's back early. Watch Daniel, will you? His pajamas are on the guest bed and he needs a nebulizer treatment before he goes to sleep. He knows what to do, okay?"

She was reaching for his coat, but he was still focused on the fact that she said "SG-1."

He blinked and pulled out his thumb. "Jack?" he asked, and Janet stopped in her tracks.

"Oh dear." She paused. "I honestly don't know, but I'll do everything I can." She looked at Cassie. "I'll call."

He watched her leave and didn't realize he'd put his thumb back in his mouth until he tasted blood.

Janet did call. Five long, agonizing hours later.

Daniel couldn't sleep. He let Cassie bandage his thumb, help him with his pajamas, even used his nebulizer without complaint, but every second that passed he thought about the fact that he'd been so concerned that he wouldn't be able to show Jack his drawing on Father's Day and now he wasn't so sure if Jack would ever be coming home.

Cassie tried to comfort him, but after she'd settled him in bed, he'd clutch at her whenever she tried to leave. So she lay with him, tissue in hand, when he started crying. She rubbed his back, saying things such as "he'll be fine" and "Mom's great at her job."

He had almost worried himself into an asthma attack when the phone finally rang.

Cassie rushed to answer it and he held his breath. He sat up in bed, trying not to picture every worst-case scenario that was running through his brain.

Cassie came back into the room and he didn't meet her eyes.

"Daniel, it's okay."

She didn't sound upset. He looked up at her face.

She was smiling.

"He's going to be fine. He had a knock on the head, Mom said, and has a hell of a headache, but he'll be fine and home in a couple of days."

He let out his breath. "Sam? Teal'c?" he managed to ask.

"Okay. Not a scratch."

He blinked. "Is he really okay?"

"Yes. Really." She settled down next to him on the bed. "Mom says she'll take you to see him in the morning. Hey, the good news is you can give him your picture on Father's Day."

He didn't care about Father's Day any more. All he cared about was the fact that Jack was safe. Five or thirty-eight, that news meant the world to him.

The next morning, one hand gripped Janet's as they walked towards Jack's bed. His other hand held onto a piece a paper like it was the key to life itself.

Janet pulled a plastic chair to the side of the bed and Daniel  
climbed onto it.

Jack's eyes were closed, there was a bandage above his eye, and he seemed a bit pale, but all in all, he was in one piece. He looked at Janet.

She smiled. "Oh, he's not sleeping. Right, Colonel?"

"You caught me." Brown eyes opened and immediately found Daniel. "Danny. Have fun at Fraiser's?"

"It was okay. Dannie ate my dinner."

"Did she?" He moved his head and winced. Daniel frowned, and Jack reached out to pat his head. "It's okay, kiddo. Just moved a little too fast. Remind me not to do that, okay?" He patted the bed. "Climb on up."

He didn't hesitate before complying and Jack snaked an arm around his shoulders. "Hey what's this?" He pulled the picture from Daniel's hand.

Daniel shrugged. "Um, it's a picture."

"I can see that." Jack studied it. "Not bad. It's you and me." His eyes lifted to Daniel's, curious.

He swallowed and wondered why it was so hard to say what he wanted to say. The words were stuck in his throat and he battled to get them out. "Um..."

Jack looked at him patiently and he kicked himself for being so tongue-tied.

"Happy Father's Day, Jack," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

"What?"

He swallowed again. "I said, 'Happy Father's Day, Jack,'" he repeated, this time louder.

Jack looked back at the picture, eyes wide. "And this is for me?"

He nodded.

That's when it happened. Jack grinned, big and wide and perfect, and hugged him as tight as he could.

"Thank you. I love it," Jack told him. "I forgot it was Father's Day. You have no idea how much this means to me, kiddo."

Daniel simply grinned back. Jack was wrong, he did know.

Because it meant just as much to him, too.

* * *

Back to Stories by Jennamajig. 


	12. 12 Switching Shoes

**Wow, almost one hundred reviews! I can't stay enough thank-you for all the great reviews :). Here's the next chapter. Enjoy!**

**

* * *

**

**Switching Shoes**  
(#12 in Shoelaces LD universe)  
by Jennamajig

* * *

SUMMARY: Daniel and Jack try to deal with Daniel being little Daniel. Inspired by the DJsSG-1Lverse yahoo list. 

SEASON/SPOILERS: None.

DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.

* * *

Daniel hated trips to the pediatrician. 

He hated the animal wallpaper, the toy bin, and the copies of Highlights magazine thrown out on every surface of the waiting room. He hated the Little Tykes table and accompanying child sized hard plastic chairs. He hated his impulse to grab the crayons and scribble on the table's surface.

But it had been almost eight months and Janet insisted that he stopped going to the infirmary. She wasn't a pediatrician, she'd told him. He said he didn't care. Even Jack agreed. But she was firm. She sent them off with a recommendation and news that she'd already set up an appointment for that afternoon.

He supposed it was no big deal. He was already seeing the allergist. What was one more doctor?

It was one too many, he decided the second he stepped foot into the crowded waiting room. One child was crying, there was sniffling everywhere, and he almost ran back out to the car.

This wasn't fair. He had Janet. She could take care of him. He didn't want to see a doctor that would treat like he was five.

Which of course, he was. And wasn't. Which Janet knew and dealt with on a regular basis.

This Dr. Richards didn't.

He clung to Jack's leg, taking some comfort in the fact that this looked like the last place Jack wanted to be in as well. Jack led him to an empty chair at the little table before heading up to the  
receptionist's window.

"Wanna color?" He looked up to see a girl about his age thrusting an orange crayon at him.

"No, thank you," he told her and it took every ounce of his willpower not to stick his thumb in his mouth.

"But it's fun," the girl said, not ready to take no for an answer.

The thumb went in.

She cocked her head. "You shouldn't suck your thumb. Only babies do that."

He couldn't believe she just told him that. He needed Jack and he needed Jack now. Thankfully, as if his prayers had been answered, he saw Jack move to an empty seat on the couch, a clipboard and pen in hand. Leaving the little girl gaping, he bolted in Jack's direction.

"I want to go home," he told him the second his brain was able to get his body to release his thumb from his mouth.

Jack sighed. "I know, I know. But Fraiser's right, you know."

He shook his head. "No, she's not. She's wrong. Really wrong."

"You're physically little, Daniel. Though I don't understand it, Fraiser says your system needs be dealt with differently."

"I don't have to like it."

Jack gave him a small smile. "No, you don't have it." He pointed to the paperwork. "I could use a little help here, though. You'd think they were writing a novel on you from all the info they need." He patted his lap and Daniel glanced back at the table and taunting girl before climbing up.

For the next ten minutes, he watched Jack fill in the blanks on the forms and he volunteered information when he could. He doubted that Jack didn't already know the information, but was secretly glad that he let Daniel stay involved. It was something he needed, especially with so many freedoms he'd once had now gone.

Finally the receptionist called Daniel's name and a nurse came out to greet them. She led them into an empty exam room.

"I'm not getting undressed," Daniel declared before the nurse could  
even speak. She just laughed.

"We won't ask you, I promise. However, I do need you take off your shoes before you get on the scale." She pointed to the scale in one corner of the room.

Daniel frowned, but leaned down and managed to get his shoes off without too much of a fuss. He let the nurse weigh him and measure his height, frowning again when he asked her how tall he was and she told him he was forty and half inches.

After she left, he sat on the exam table staring at his socks.

"Forty and half inches, Jack. I'm not even three and half feet."

"So what? You're five, Daniel. Did you have any growth spurts the first time around?"

Now that Jack mentioned it, he was one of the shortest kids his age until he hit age 13, when he shot up nearly 8 inches in a little over a year. Still being short, and especially short for his current physical age, didn't make things any easier to deal with.

"I guess," he admitted. He stared at the wall, noting that the animal print wallpaper decor continued in the exam rooms.

Jack leaned against the exam table. "You'll grow eventually. Maybe this time around you'll be taller then me."

"Jack, I may be small, but I still have the same DNA. I'll still be the same height in the end." He paused. "I think."

Their conversation was cut short when the exam door opened, and the doctor walked in, Daniel's brand new chart in his hands. Daniel took a moment to study the man. He had dirty blond hair, was about six foot, and at best guess, Daniel gauged him to be in his late thirties, early forties. He had a stethoscope hanging out of one lab coat pocket and Daniel was relieved to see that he didn't seem to have "kid-a-fied" it.

The doctor smiled directly at Daniel. "You must be Daniel," he said, before looking to Jack. "And you must be Colonel O'Neill. I'm Dr. Ben Richards." He extended a hand to Jack, who took it. "I spoke to Dr. Fraiser this morning and she relayed a lot of information," the doctor continued, "But I don't really like second hand information, so I hope you won't mind if I take my own stats, so to speak." He put the chart down and fished out his stethoscope.

Daniel blinked. He'd been waiting for the doctor to talk down to him, but he maintained eye contact the entire time he spoke. Daniel exchanged a glance with Jack who raised an eyebrow as if to say 'I told you so.'

The exam went smoothly. Dr. Richards always spoke directly to Daniel, never referring to him in the third person, and let Daniel decide if Jack should answer the question or not. When he was finished, he sat on a stool next to the counter, scribbling in Daniel's chart.

"Dr. Fraiser warned me that you were one smart kid, you know." He spun the stool so he could face Daniel and smiled. "One smart, pretty healthy kid." He gave a glance at Jack. "Probably give your dad here a run for his money. And a heart attack or two."

"Or twelve," Jack replied.

"I'm not that bad," Daniel insisted.

Dr. Richards shook his head. "Of course not." He closed the chart. "Everything looks pretty good. How long have you been seeing the allergist?"

"Umm..." He looked to Jack.

"Almost four months," Jack answered. "Although we have been going a lot lately because the allergy meds didn't seem to be doing the trick. He had the chicken pox about a month ago and the allergies flared, causing the asthma to act up too. Allergist changed his meds. They seem to work."

"No they don't," Daniel but in. "I still sneeze."

The doctor smiled at him again. "It's the pollen, Daniel. Gets to me every spring and summer despite any pill I take." He paused. "You do sound a little wheezy, but I wouldn't be too concerned." He directed the later part of his statement to Jack. "And other than the asthma and being a little small for your age, I'd say you are one pretty healthy five-year-old."

"Not five," he said to the doctor. "Six."

"In nine days you'll be six," Jack corrected and Daniel crossed his arms.

"Close enough," he hissed.

The doctor looked down at Daniel's chart, obviously reading the fake year of birth Jack had doctored up to create Daniel's new birth certificate.

"Well, happy birthday early, then," Dr. Richards said. "You doing anything special?"

Daniel thought for a moment. He'd been so focused on adjusting to being five he hadn't though about celebrating being six. He had just wanted to be thirty-eight again and had hoped that this birthday he'd be turning thirty-nine, not contemplating how to survive until he reached double digits again.

"Oh he'd doing something special all right," Jack commented, handing  
Daniel his shoes.

"We are?" What was Jack planning? Oh god, he hoped it wasn't some grand kiddie affair. AS much as he did love playing in the sandbox and playing with his cars, the whole cake and streamers and Chuck E. Cheese party extravaganza was not what he wanted. He had enough reminders telling him he was little. He didn't need the whole population of Chuck E. Cheese to sing it out to him.

But Jack just grinned at him.

Daniel kicked his feet back against the exam table. "Are we done?" he asked the doctor, plotting to get Jack to spill the beans once they were able to get to the car.

"Almost," Dr. Richard's promised. "You're up to date on most of your immunizations, but there's still a couple you need before you leave."

Daniel swallowed. "A needle?"

"Small one, I promise. It will be over before you even notice."

Daniel didn't know why, but he started shaking his head. This was silly. He'd had injections before. Recently even, since Janet liked to draw blood frequently. But Janet was one thing. She was gentle, she didn't hurt, she was Janet. This was some guy he'd just met and despite the fact that Daniel may even go as far to say he liked the man, he did not want the doctor sticking a needle into his arm.

He kept shaking his head and saw Jack get up from the chair he had retreated to during the exam. "I don't want a needle," he said  
needlessly.

Jack stroked the top of his head. "I know. But Fraiser's given you shots before."

He knew that. Knew this was stupid. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Dr. Richards drawing up the needle in question. "Not the same," he said. "Not Janet."

Jack looked at him. "I know. Fraiser's good at that whole needle thing. Although if you tell her I said that, I'll deny it." He gave Daniel a smile.

"She already knows, I think," he said. "And you are trying to distract me."

"No, I'm not." Daniel shot him a look. "Okay, maybe I am. It working?"

"No."

"Oh I wouldn't say that." Daniel looked up to see Dr. Richards pull a needle away from his arm. "All done."

Daniel blinked. "Really?"

The doctor nodded. "Really. Go. Play. It's a beautiful day out there. Enjoy it before you forget how and you find yourself stuck inside working for a living every day."

"Oh, he will," Jack promised. He patted Daniel's head and helped him off the table. "Not so bad, huh, kiddo?"

Ten minutes later, they were in the car and Daniel had a moment to ponder both Jack's and the doctor's words. He'd survived the pediatrician despite a little of a performance he'd be embarrassed about for a bit.

Was that was he was doing? Simply surviving?

Yes. And no.

He took each difficultly as it came, conquering it and trying to move on. But it was hard to completely move on and accept his fate, when a tiny voice inside him told him perhaps this wasn't his fate. Eight months had passed and his new life had began, yes, but had he simply been trying to cope?

He was Daniel O'Neill, not Daniel Jackson. But, wait, no, that was wrong. He was still Daniel Jackson. Jack told him so. A change in name meant nothing.

But it was still different. He was still different.

When they got home, Daniel found himself in front of the fridge, staring at the picture he'd drawn Jack for Father's Day. He and Jack, hand in hand, smiling, even though it was hard to tell because a five-year-old was hardly an artist.

"Danny" was written so proudly at the bottom and Daniel realized how much he enjoyed drawing that picture. How much he enjoyed Jack's smile. How, deep inside, he'd lost something beyond his adult freedom and possessions.

He'd lost his burden.

And that was one thing he didn't miss. Being a child could be so carefree, fretting about simple things such as needle sticks, Father's Day gifts, and getting Jack to buy Starbucks ice cream. Enjoying all the hugs, smiles, and birthdays.

Had he really forgotten about that? Had he really ever experienced  
that?

He contemplated this for a few minutes, before he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up and saw Jack standing next to him.

"That's some picture, kiddo."

"I know," he said softly. He held Jack's knees crack as the man knelt down to his level.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Arm hurt?"

He shook his head. "No."

"Daniel..."

Daniel shook his head again. "Nothing, Jack. Nothing's wrong." He paused. "I have fun, you know."

"I know you do. You certainly had a good time with Tessa in the sandbox yesterday. Carter will be disappointed I didn't have a camera."

"I'll draw her a picture."

"You know, I think she'd like that. A lot."

"Yeah," he agreed. He turned to Jack. "Jack?"

"Yes?"

"It's a beautiful day. I want to play outside."

* * *

Back to Stories by Jennamajig. 


	13. 13 2 Shoe Steps Back 1 Shoe Step Forward

**Next chapter is inspired especially by some discussion on the DJsSG-1Lverse yahoo list and written with Anne, a list sub there, in mind. As always, thanks for the reviews and enjoy!

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**

**Two Shoe Steps Back, One Shoe Step Forward**  
(#13 in Shoelaces LD universe)  
by Jennamajig

* * *

SUMMARY: Daniel and Jack try to deal with Daniel being little Daniel. Inspired by the DJsSG-1Lverse yahoo list. 

SEASON/SPOILERS: None.

DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.

* * *

Six, no seven, candles stared at him, their flames dancing from the summer breeze flowing through the open dining room window. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Janet hit the light switch. The candles lit his face and he gazed down at the cake, reading the carefully frosted "Happy Birthday, Daniel" on top.

"Make a wish," someone told him, but he was too busy staring to notice who said it. Instead he looked at the candles, frozen. He blinked, and took a deep breath. It was his birthday.

Only a stupid birthday.

He'd made a wish on cake before. They didn't come true when you were a kid, they didn't come true when you adult.

He let out the breath, blowing the candles out. A chorus of "Happy Birthday" started up and suddenly, the room was too small, there were too many people, and the world was completely unfair.

The lights came back on and he heard Jack ask him which piece of cake he wanted. Sam pulled the seven wax candles out of the cake and put them on a paper plate.

Jack repeated himself and Daniel looked at him. He tried to form words, but they didn't come.

Instead he looked back at the plate that held seven candles, one for good luck.

He bolted from the table and out the backdoor.

Daniel sat on the edge of the sandbox, his thumb in his mouth, and his other hand digging its fingers restlessly through the sand. He heard the footsteps and knew who it was without even looking up.

"I wanna be alone," he mumbled around his thumb, not moving an inch, expect for the constant motion of his hands against the grains of sand.

He heard a sigh and felt a heavy weight slowly sit next to him on the sandbox's narrow edge.

"Daniel."

He blinked, trying so hard not to cry. He was frustrated. At himself, at the world, at his reckless five-year-old, just recently turned six, emotions that left his heart on his sleeve for all to see. This wasn't how he was. He worked years to be who he was, faults and all.

But it was gone.

Poof.

Thirty-eight to six in less than thirty seconds.

He felt an arm snake itself around his shoulders and for once he didn't want it there. Dr. Daniel Jackson was going to be in control today. Little Daniel O'Neill would just have to watch from the sidelines.

Jack let himself be pushed away and he was grateful. Together they sat for a few minutes, silent except for a soft sound of his fingers raking through the sand.

Finally Daniel sighed, wrenched his thumb out of his mouth and looked at Jack.

"I'm thirty-nine," he stated.

Jack nodded. "I know." A pause. "But you're also six."

Daniel shook his head. "No. Not six. Thirty-nine."

"Daniel." Jack's voice was gentle, comforting. But he didn't want that. He wanted to be able to go out and have a drink to toast the fact that next year he'd be forty. He wanted the over-the-hill jokes Jack would make, despite the fact that the man was well over forty himself. He wanted steak - that he could cut himself, his hands able to grip the sharp knife and slice the meat into pieces as big as he desired, not as small as his little body could handle.

He thought he was coping. He was.

But he wasn't.

Burdens gone, sure. But so many more things were still missing.

And today, of all days, he missed it all. Missed it so painfully he thought for a moment he might break in two, dividing himself and his fighting personalities.

He missed his house. His car. Having a driver's license. Missed using a credit card, doing his own grocery shopping. Even being able to drop off his dry cleaning at this moment seemed like a luxury.

He missed mission briefings and the treatment the marines used to give him. He missed being able to type furiously at his keyboard and write mission reports that topped novels without needing a booster seat to even see the keyboard.

He missed making a difference in the SGC, even if all he did was say 'hi' to new cultures and gain a handshake.

He missed coffee, blessed coffee, and the right to eat a Fifth Avenue bar for dinner if that's what he wanted. Independence.

Such simple things, gone. Oh, he knew he could regain some of them with time, but they would never be the same.

He'd never be the same.

Still Daniel Jackson, but changed by fate.

Gained some great things, lost some great things. He'd lost track of who was winning and it was exhausting.

"It's not fair!" he screamed, flinging a handful of sand into the early evening air. He looked at Jack. "No matter what you say, it's not the same! I'm not the same! That cake inside tells the world that I'm not the same! I want to be thirty-nine! I am thirty-nine! I'm..." he trailed off, not sure what he was saying anymore. Not sure what he wanted, what he hoped for.

"...out of options," he finished and the hand went back into the sand, raking the grains back and forth.

He felt a hand once again slip around his shoulder again and he let it sit there. He took a deep breath.

"I can't help how I feel, Jack. Sometimes I listen to myself and all I hear is this child's voice. I look in the mirror and I see blond hair and no glasses. Sometimes, it's hard to remember who I am. What if I forget completely? I lived almost forty-years of my life as one persona and boom, some alien planet decides that making me experience childhood all over again is a gift, act like I should be happy and that I've just won some fantastic prize.

"Well, I'm not on a game show. No winning here."

There was more silence.

"I'm not sure what to say." Daniel was almost startled by Jack's voice. It was so soft and low, so uncharacteristically unsure.

"I don't know if there is anything to say, Jack."

Jack shook his head. "It's not fair, Daniel." He sighed. "But you can't forget who you are no matter how hard you try. Good or bad. Believe me, I've tried." He paused. "If could, I'd change you back in an instant."

Daniel looked up at Jack, meeting his eyes. "Do you miss the other me?"

Jack looked confused and Daniel knew he wasn't expecting that question. He wasn't sure if Jack would answer honestly, though he hoped he would, even if he didn't like the answer. It bugged him. Jack was being comforting, even told him, he missed holding a child in his arms, but what about his friend? Did he miss his friend?

He watched Jack's eyes as he seemed to be processing an answer. Finally, he uttered a single, "Yes."

Daniel averted his gaze. He knew it would hurt, so he was surprised he wasn't truly prepared for it.

"But I still have my friend, you know. And a little bit more."

He looked back up at Jack, startled and confused by the statement. Jack gave him a small smile.

"No, it's not fair. And it's different. And I miss the way you used to be. I miss drinking beers and making you watch hockey. I miss your ramblings off-world and your attraction to trouble and artifacts. Hell, I may even miss your long-ass mission reports that made my head swim after the first paragraph.

"But I'm a contradiction, Daniel. And selfish. Because I like it being you and me. I like knowing you're safe and coming home to you and a picture on the fridge. I like seeing you play in the sandbox or roll a Matchbox car across the coffee table as if you don't have a care in the world.

"I like thinking that, for just a moment, you can be completely happy again."

Daniel blinked rapidly. "I want to be completely happy," he said. "I want to see you happy, too."

Jack just patted his head. "You don't get it, Daniel. You make me happy." He pulled Daniel close to him. "I love you, Daniel, no matter what."

Daniel felt wetness at his eyes and knew this time he couldn't force them away. "Really? As old Daniel or this Daniel?"

"Both."

Daniel closed his eyes. "I love you, too, Jack," he whispered. He felt Jack brush his bangs off his forehead and wipe his eyes. They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

Finally Jack let out a breath. "We keep trying. We keep dialing that planet and hoping. But in the meantime, we try and live life and eat cake." He smiled. "Which, coincidentally there is some of that inside. Ice cream cake, too. Store bought by Carter herself." He gently let go of Daniel and stood up.

"Life sucks sometime, kiddo. It's a fact."

"I'm not a kid."

Jack smiled. "Daniel, you've always been a kid to me. Thirty-nine or six, you're still younger than me."

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Then I guess some things always stay the same."

"Yep." He offered Daniel a hand. "We better hurry or Teal'c will eat all the cake. You know him and ice cream. And you've got lots of presents to open."

"Lots?"

"Fraiser herself brought three boxes."

Daniel latched unto his hand and felt Jack squeeze his hand.

"You ready?"

Daniel smiled. "No. But I will be. Eventually."

* * *

Back to Stories by Jennamajig. 


	14. 14 Same Old Shoes

**Thank you for all the reviews! I'm over a 100 now which amazes me :). This is a happier chapter, I promise.****

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**Same Old Shoes**  
(#14 in Shoelaces LD universe)  
by Jennamajig

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SUMMARY: Daniel and Jack try to deal with Daniel being little Daniel. Inspired by the DJsSG-1Lverse yahoo list. 

SEASON/SPOILERS: None.

DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.

* * *

"I want to go offworld." 

The request was simple and he said as such. As if it was the most normal thing in the world to say. Which, of course, until about eight and a half months ago it was.

So simple, so easy. Every six weeks, sometimes even sooner if the world needed saving or some other SG team needed his archaeological expertise. Sure, now SG teams still needed his expert opinion, but he and his expert opinion stayed on earth and seemed awkward and tense.

So he thought his request wasn't crazy. Not in the least.

"No."

Okay, maybe a little crazy as far as Jack was concerned.

"But Jaaaackk."

"You know, Daniel, the whining doesn't exactly make you seem any older." The man spun his office chair around to face him. "Now the puppy dog eye look, that's the ticket, you know. Of course, too bad it doesn't work on me."

"I want to go."

"No. Like most of the rides at Disney World, the Stargate has a height requirement."

Daniel shot Jack a glare for that comment. "I'll put lifts in my shoes, then."

Jack shifted the paperwork on his desk. "No."

Daniel slumped back in his chair, arms folded, ready to sulk. Jack eyed him.

"Oh, no you don't. I know a Daniel tantrum routine when I see it and it's not getting you anywhere except maybe to your room when we get home."

Daniel glared again. "I'm not throwing a tantrum."

"Sulking is prep for a tantrum."

"I'm not sulking."

"Uh huh. And I have two perfectly fine knees." Jack picked up a pen and started signing the bottom of a stack of forms.

He refused to uncross his arms. Jack was right, but that didn't mean he needed to acknowledge that fact nor did he have to give up on his mission. "I want to go."

Jack sighed. "I know you do. But you can't. And you and I both know why you can't, so it's no use beating a dead horse. Because nothing, and I repeat, nothing's going to change."

Nothing was changing. That was the problem. He'd been needed before. Actually, Dr. Daniel Jackson had been a hot commodity at the SGC. Now he was simply here. A genius kid who could teach SGC teams new languages and translate lines of ancient and alien text but couldn't step through a wormhole to make contact with the civilization responsible for said text.

Was he still making a difference, then? Hell, they'd survived for a year without him.

And just why did that stupid planet allow him to keep every thought he'd ever committed to memory if he wasn't permitted to put said memories use?

It was frustrating. Endlessly frustrating. But that wasn't anything new, so he wasn't sure why he was harping on it.

Probably because it hurt. A lot.

He was too smart to attend a conventional school and it would be a disaster waiting to happen if he tried. Both he and Jack were well aware of this fact. But Daniel was of school age now and therefore Jack was, at least on paper, "home-schooling" him. Eventually he would need documentation of some type of graduation in case Daniel ever wanted to pursue another Ph.D. Daniel had snuffed at that, ready to take the GED test, just so he could get his hands on something that proved to others he simply wasn't just another six-year-old. But Jack reminded him it didn't work that way for a child and he needed to "complete" the paperwork for each grade via home school. Daniel figured he could still do that in less than two years if he wanted.

Of course, that was providing they hadn't found a way to reverse this whole situation and he got to use his current diplomas again. And so he waited. But the gate to the planet still wouldn't engage, Janet was long out of ideas, alien help had nothing, and each day passed, whispering to Daniel to move on.

But, like he told Jack on his birthday moving on was not easy. Right now he wasn't fine.

Right now, he simply wanted to feel needed.

Oh, Jack needed him. He needed Jack. But that was on an entirely different level. He needed intellectual need. His intellect had always defined who he was. He wanted his role at SGC to be important, like he felt it had been before. Sam was the great physicist mind; he'd thought perhaps he was the diplomatic. General Hammond used to send him on diplomatic missions because he said Daniel was the best the SGC had.

Now Russia would laugh at him because he'd need a booster seat to reach the tabletop.

He wasn't asking for a lot. Not really at all. But it was still impossible. And Jack was right; it wouldn't be changing anytime soon.

So he sulked. Here in Jack's office he kept his arms folded until his six-year-mind wandered and he found himself rolling his favorite Matchbox car across the carpet. On the desk above him, he heard Jack shuffle more paperwork.

The issue had been dropped for the moment, but it was never really going to leave his mind, he knew. It didn't leave his mind when he dropped by Ben Roberts' office an hour later after Jack finished his paperwork. Roberts' new office was his old one. When he realized this situation wasn't short-term, he'd given his title over to the up and coming archaeologist whose brilliant diplomatic mind could handle the politics of the SGC. Even recommended his placement on SG-1. But Roberts' office had had no space and Daniel's new duties didn't need much, so it made sense. But it didn't make it easy. Daniel sighed as he looked longingly at the department head paperwork on the desk. Fondly, Daniel remembered receiving and hating that paperwork.

Roberts wasn't there. He was offworld, consulting with SG-11 who needed an expert on their latest mission. Something about an Ancient outpost. He sighed and dropped his latest translation on the top of the pile. It wasn't nearly as important.

He wasn't nearly as important.

Later he stood on his tiptoes and looked out into the Gateroom as General Hammond held a briefing with the three other members of SG-1. Daniel listened half-heartedly, choosing just to gaze out the window. He didn't even realize when the briefing ended and Sam and Teal'c left.

"I'm sorry, son."

The words startled him and he looked up, surprised to see Hammond standing by his side. He glanced back to see Jack a few feet behind, gathering up the paper remains of the meeting.

"Thank you," Daniel told him and pressed a little hand to the glass. Suddenly the gate activated and Hammond headed downstairs.

Probably SG-11, Daniel thought, staring at the circle of blue. He felt Jack's hand pat his head. Sure enough, SG-11 paraded through a moment later, Ben Roberts' was trailing behind, a notebook in one hand.

Daniel stroked the glass. "Can we go home?" he asked quietly. He couldn't be here anymore. At home he could pretend things were different and stick his toes in the sandbox and dig and dig and think of other things and eat coffee ice cream and cuddle with Jack on the couch while they watched the Discovery Channel.

"Sure, kiddo. I just gotta sit in on SG-11's debriefing for a few minutes and then we'll head out." He patted Daniel's head again. "We'll get takeout. From that Thai place you like."

Daniel nodded and let Jack lead him from the briefing room. He settled himself in Jack's office, rolling his car once again across the bumpy carpet and tried to think of other things while he waited for Jack to return.

A few minutes passed and he though he might just make it through another day at the SGC, when Jack returned much too early for the debriefing to be finished.

The footsteps paused at the doorway and Daniel looked up at Jack. He was smiling.

"It's your lucky day, kiddo."

--

It was his lucky day, indeed. Lucky day plus a million. SG-11 had found an Ancient site. It was amazing and filled with so much text Roberts couldn't even begin to transcribe it.

He couldn't even translate it, in fact. It was coded, he'd discovered and his knowledge of the language only went so far.

"We need the best to do it," Roberts said. "The best is Dr. Jackson."

They couldn't bring it all through the gate and this could a major breakthrough.

"What about hostiles?" Jack immediately asked.

"Area's in the clear. We scouted for miles. There's nothing," SG-11's colonel assured the anxious faces around the table.

"I'm still not sure if this is such a good idea," Jack mused out loud.

"No, it's a great idea!" Daniel was unable to stifle his excitement. "It's an absolutely wonderful idea! I've got to see that text, Jack. We're talking about the Ancients, here. This could be what we're looking for."

General Hammond nodded. "I agree. But we can't take any changes. Since this is a unique situation, I'm sending you back out with Dr. Jackson and SG-1. You leave at 0800 tomorrow."

Daniel couldn't stop bouncing. Hammond was letting him offworld and referred to him as "Dr. Jackson," something that hadn't happened in what felt like forever, especially after his name was legally changed to O'Neill. But Dr. Daniel Jackson still existed, inside of him, and he was going to prove it. To himself, to Jack, to the universe.

So translating text wasn't glamorous. But it was something he did. Very well. The best, in fact.

They needed him.

It felt good.

It still felt good two days later, when they returned. It didn't matter that he'd gotten a little lost among the ruins. It didn't matter that for a slight second he found himself thinking about how cool it would be to send his Matchbox car down the steepest pair of rocks. It didn't matter that SG-11 watched his every move and babied him to the point he thought he'd suffocate. Or that Jack wrapped him so tight in his sleeping bag there was no way he could escape or that Teal'c was his permanent bodyguard. It didn't matter that he'd twisted his ankle and Jack carried him back through the gate.

He went offworld.

The Ancient ruins were full of some great things. Not as much as they hoped for, but again it didn't really matter.

He went offworld.

He did what he was good at.

So he led the briefing sitting on a phone book, struggled with the keyboard as he wrote his report, and went out for ice cream with SG-1 and SG-11, where he got more ice-cream on his shirt then in his mouth.

So things were different.

He was different.

But every once in a while it was nice to see that some things he could still do just the same.

* * *

Back to Stories by Jennamajig. 


	15. 15 Broken Shoes

**This one's a fluff piece, really. Thank you again for all the wonderful reviews; they keep me going :). Enjoy! **

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**Broken Shoes**  
(#15 in Shoelaces LD universe)  
by Jennamajig

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SUMMARY: Daniel and Jack try to deal with Daniel being little Daniel. Inspired by the DJsSG-1Lverse yahoo list. 

SEASON/SPOILERS: None.

DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.

* * *

He couldn't get it to fit. It worked just fine when he was bigger, but his smaller hands arms couldn't seem to maneuver it into place. 

Close, but not quite.

"Daniel?"

Maybe if he moved it just a fraction more...

"Daniel?"

There! He could reach it. He let out a sigh of relief.

"Now I could say your name one more time, but we both know what happens then, don't we?"

Crap. He turned, trying to make what he was doing look like the most natural thing in the world.

"Yes, Jack?" He purposely brought out the puppy dog eyes in an attempt to look as cute as he possibly could.

"Please tell me that's not a coat hanger you are trying to stick down your cast."

Daniel widened his eyes once again to capture that "innocent look" before pulling the mangled wire coat hanger away from his arm. "It's not."

Jack just stared and blinked. "Funny, because it looks like a coat hanger. Or correction, it used to look like a coat hanger." He reached out and plucked the object in question from Daniel's good arm. "You have anything to say?"

Daniel found his gaze slipping to the floor. "Um...it itches?"

--

He hadn't meant to break his arm. It just "happened." It just "happened" when he was doing something he wasn't supposed to.

It was sunny, as most early August days tend to be and, for once, Daniel had decided to throw all the angst out the window and play outside. Jack's knee was acting up again, so the Colonel was lounging on the couch, knee propped up on the coffee table, ice planted on top of it, watching a baseball game on TV. When Daniel said he wanted to go out, Jack agreed, telling him to take Dannie with him and reminding him to stick to the sandbox and avoid the tree.

The so mentioned tree was a wonderful, gnarled oak tree that Daniel had tried to climb on more than one occasion. But the tree was ancient, which meant the seductive branches were unstable, which made Jack a tad crazy with worry, so the tree was off-limits.

The funny thing was that the thirty-nine-year-old Daniel hated heights. Deep down inside, they made him nervous, stemming back to an incident when he was seven and almost fell off a rock formation while in Egypt with his parents.

But the five-year-old Daniel loved them. He could climb the tree and see the whole yard, even the neighbor's yard if he found the right spot. It was like being on top of world, a wonderful feeling for someone who hadn't even reached four feet in height yet. The creaking branches didn't scare him, they just added to the lure of the forbidden play area.

They sure scared the thirty-nine-year-old though. Which was why Daniel usually listened to Jack.

Usually.

But not today.

Which, of course, meant he had climbed the tree and was inching out onto a shaky branch so he could see into the Petersons' yard. They had a pool that was shaped like a triangle and if he moved just a few feet he could see it in all its glory.

That's when the branch snapped.

And he fell. Hard.

Dazed, and more than a bit disorientated, and surprised at having the wind knocked out of him, all he heard was Dannie barking and the sliding glass door opening somewhere in the distance. Then suddenly the world came into focus and he felt a sharp pain in his arm and tears in his eyes. Jack's face loomed above him, calling his name, asking where it hurt.

"Arm," he managed to say before whimpering, "It hurts."

Jack went to touch the arm in question and he shook his head. "No."

"I have to see if it's broken. I'm sorry." Daniel felt a hand on his head and bit his lip as Jack prodded the arm and sent more pain shooting through his arm. He shut his eyes.

"Open your eyes, Daniel. Did you hit your head? I think I'm going to call 911."

"No!" he screamed before settling back down into a whimper. "Just my arm. Promise. Hurts."

Jack looked unconvinced, but nodded. "ER, then."

He shook his head again. "Can't we call Janet? Go to the SGC?"

"Fraiser's not a pediatrician and she'll just remind me of that the second I call her. Besides the hospital's closer and you're in pain."

"But they will treat me like a little kid at the hospital." He cradled the arm, wishing the pain away. He heard Jack groan and then suddenly he was scooped up into his arms. .

"I hate to break it to you, kiddo, but you are a little kid."

"Am not," he argued as Jack placed him in the car and reached for the seatbelt. He gently lifted Daniel's arm around the belt at he latched it, but it still hurt and Daniel still whimpered.

"Sorry," Jack said before laying the arm back down and shutting the door.

At least the car seat had been gone since his birthday. He was still two pounds too light but it didn't matter anymore because he'd finally turned six. The car seat would have hurt like hell.

Thankfully, the ride to the hospital was short and not as horrible as Daniel had imagined. Now the hospital, that was as horrible as he imagined.

And then some.

The ER was relatively empty, but they still had to wait. Daniel was not used to waiting. He didn't want to wait. And neither did his arm. He never waited at the SGC for treatment and he was well aware that patience was a virtue he sometimes threw out the window, especially since fate turned back the hands of time on him. He fidgeted, kicked the backs of plastic chairs, whimpered in Jack's lap - anything to pass the time and more importantly, make him forget about the pain.

He'd broken things before. And they'd hurt. A lot, even. But somehow when he was in his thirties a broken bone was easier to manage. He could manage pain. He'd suffered for a few days before his appendix burst and no one knew. It also almost killed him, but still no one knew. Now the pain seemed to invade his little head and it was all he could think about.

Well, that, and the fact that some doctor was going to treat him like a child and want to touch his arm and stick him with pointy objects.

It was the pointy objects he was most afraid of. It was the doctor's office all over again.

His name was finally called, and the doctor, who couldn't possibly be old enough to have graduated medical school, came in. As Daniel had expected, he treated him like a little kid, but to be honest, Daniel was paying more attention to the pain than Doogie Howser. They took x-rays and the doctor came back to showcase them.

"Broken," he proclaimed. "At the wrist and the forearm." He pointed at the two spots before putting the x-ray down and opening a cabinet.

"You'll be as good as new before you know it," the doctor continued, turning back to give Daniel a smile. "You'll even have a cool cast that all your friends can sign and we'll let you pick the color."

But he didn't care about the color. He cared about the fact the doctor had a very large needle in his hand.

He bolted.

Or tried to, at least. Jack managed to catch him before he made it off the exam table. In the process he jarred his arm and he hissed, sending new waves of pain through his arm and tears to his eyes.

"No needles," he said.

"It will only hurt for a second," soothed the doctor.

"Liar," Daniel accused. This wasn't his pediatrician, so he wasn't anywhere near as charming. At least Dr. Richards treated him like he had a shred of intelligence.

"It's just medicine to make your arm feel a lot better, I promise. It will make you little sleepy so you won't feel anything we put your arm in a cast."

"No," he hissed and looked towards Jack. Jack looked a bit surprised.

"Daniel, we went through this at the doctor's office. They just need to set your arm."

But he shook his head. "No. No Janet. No Dr. Richards. No needles." He scooted further up the exam table to prove his point.

Jack sighed. "Daniel."

"Jack."

"Maybe we can try an alternative," the doctor put in and Daniel was very happy to see him put down the needle. "Has Daniel ever had nitrous oxide?"

Jack frowned. "You mean that stuff they give you at the dentist's?"

The doctor nodded. "It's exactly what the dentist uses. It's a gas that when mixed with oxygen reduces anxiety and even reduces pain to a degree. We've had a lot of success using it with children when it comes to stitching lacerations and setting broken bones. It will make the procedure much easier."

Jack looked at Daniel and raised an eyebrow. Daniel frowned, not sure if he trusted this "child." But his arm hurt and he wanted it to go away.

And he wasn't about to let Doogie poke him with that long pointy thing.

"No needles?" he asked.

"We'll try," Jack offered, stroking Daniel's forehead.

"Okay," he whimpered.

Ten minutes later there was a nurse and another doctor in the room. The new doctor was sitting a stool fiddling with something out of Daniel's eye line. He couldn't stop the feeling of anxiety that was creeping up on him. He looked up and saw Jack smile and squeeze his good hand.

"This will teach you to stay out of the tree," he said.

Daniel gasped. Jack squeezed his hand again. "Over before you know it, kiddo."

The new doctor had pushed her stool up next to Daniel. She smiled at him. "Which do you like best? Strawberry, grape, or orange?"

She was talking to him like he was six, but he found he didn't really care. He just wanted this over with so he could go home. "Um, strawberry."

"Okay." He watched her smear something over a clear object. After she was done, she lifted the object and he saw it was a mask

He swallowed. He hated hospitals and wished again that he hadn't climbed the stupid tree or that he was in the infirmary where he may have been able to let Janet give him a shot to numb him or put him out or anything.

"This is pretty simple," the doctor told him. "I'm going to put this over your face and you're going to breathe in some special air that may make you a little floaty or even a little sleepy. Then we'll set your arm."

"Hurt?" he asked, even though his brain told him it wouldn't, shouldn't. But pain was a six-year-old's number one concern.

She smiled again. "Nope. That's the best part. You probably won't even notice."

He swallowed again and she lifted up the mask. "Tell you what," she said. "Why don't you try holding it at first?" She looked toward Jack. "Your dad can even help."

She handed him the mask and he looked up at Jack, who gave his hand one more squeeze, before reaching up to help him guide the mask to his face. "Over before you know it," he soothed and Daniel hoped he was right.

The artificial smell of strawberries hit his nose, but it wasn't unpleasant. He saw the doctor watching him and felt Jack stroking his hair with one hand and helping him grip the mask with the other. The next thing he knew, someone was guiding his head down to a pillow on the gurney and moving his good arm to his side. He could still hear and was still awake, but the room seemed to blur in front of him. He thought he felt the jab of something sharp and someone pull his arm, but he couldn't be sure. He just laid back, closed his eyes, and breathed.

"All done," he heard and he opened his eyes. The room started to come back into focus. The mask was still there, but it was now hovering slightly above his face and the strawberry smell was almost gone.

"Jack," he asked and smiled when he saw Jack standing next to him. A glance towards his arm revealed a bright white cast.

Jack shrugged. "White is easier to write on," he explained. "How do you feel?"

He looked at his cast a moment longer. His arm still ached just a little, but the immense pain was gone.

"Over before I knew it," he told Jack and Jack smiled and ruffled his hair.

"Told you it would be."

--

"Um...it itches?"

The tree was officially off-limits, although Daniel doubted he'd be climbing it anytime soon. Jack deemed the broken arm punishment enough, although now that he'd caught him trying to stick a coat hanger down his cast, it could be a different story.

"It really does itch! You, of all people, should know how much it itches."

He watched Jack turn the wire over in his hands.

"You're right, it does itch." He straightened the wire out more. "But you are going about it all wrong. You can't reach anything when it's all crooked."

Daniel smiled. "Does that mean I'm forgiven, then?"

Jack thought this over for a second. "Maybe."

"Can I have the hanger back?"

"No."

"But why?"

"Because you still climbed the tree."

"But you said the cast was punishment enough."

"Ah" Jack raised a finger. "I did. But that means the cast in all its glory. All its heavy, hot, itchy glory."

"But Jaaack..."

Jack shrugged. "You shouldn't have climbed the tree."

* * *

Back to Stories by Jennamajig. 


	16. 16 Storm Shoes

**Thank you again for all the kind reviews and support. This week has been pretty trying, but here's #16. Can't say when #17 will be here, it all depends on the muse :).**

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**Storm Shoes**  
(#16 in Shoelaces LD universe)  
by Jennamajig

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SUMMARY: Daniel and Jack try to deal with Daniel being little Daniel. Inspired by the DJsSG-1Lverse yahoo list. 

SEASON/SPOILERS: None.

DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.

* * *

No matter how much time passed or how hard he tried, there were still a few things Daniel couldn't adjust to. 

Thunderstorms were one of them.

They never used to bother him. It was quite the opposite, in fact. The first time around, he'd spent many a gloomy, rainy day by the window, gazing at the sky, watching the clouds and the streaks of light as they flashed above. It was a time of reflection and an easy distraction from yet another foster home, another set of foster parents that either tried too hard or not hard enough.

It was a coping mechanism, one he had continued to use right up to the day he transformed. Jack, in fact, had more often than not, found him gazing through a window staring at the angry sky.

Daniel would use the quiet, reflective time when the turbulent sky seemed so furious at the ground below to push aside all of his own anger and instead watched it play out in the clouds. He would allow Mother Nature to fight the battle for him, his gaze locked on the space between Heaven and Earth.

It vanished the first time the thunder clapped over Jack's house.

He was standing in the middle of the living room, running a car across the coffee table, the adult Daniel was half watching a Mayan special on the Discovery channel while the young Daniel was drawn to maneuvering the car around the mountain of magazines when a sound resounded across the sky and sent him running into the kitchen to clutch Jack's legs as he made dinner.

Daniel was petrified.

He'd dealt with newfound fears before. His six-year-old brain hated needles now, but loved heights. He was scared of social interaction and constantly worried every time Jack went on a mission through the Stargate. He craved hugs and feared rejection even more than he had the first time around.

He apparently also feared thunder.

And lighting.

And darkness.

Obviously the majority of storms that had occurred since Daniel had shrunk must have happened while he was tucked under the safety of Cheyenne Mountain.

Today, however, was not one of those times. Today was another storm he could witness during his second childhood and today he was cuddled on the couch, one hand clutching a blanket and the other up at his face, the thumb planted directly in his mouth, his teeth clenched around its flesh. Dannie, who had seemed to sense his anxiety, had curled up next to his feet on the couch, her long doggy head planted on top his ankles, as if that would protect him. Daniel appreciated the sentiment, but it wasn't what he wanted.

Just like every previous storm, he wanted Jack.

But Jack was off world again, another event Daniel was still getting used to, and Janet was on babysitting duty. She'd patiently sat with him for the last hour, rubbing his back as the thunder rumbled and the lightning flashed across the windows. It helped, but not enough to penetrate his growing panic and his thumb was feeling the abuse as he ignored the slight metallic taste of blood in his mouth when he'd broken the skin. Janet realized the unwanted attention his thumb had been getting and had been trying to coax him to release the digit.

He had been contemplating caving, since the taste of blood was making him nauseous, when the lights flickered and then went out completely.

He bit down harder then curled himself into an incredibly, sight, small ball of arms and legs, blanket and injured thumb.

With a pat on a the head and empty words of comfort, Janet left Daniel alone in the mind numbing darkness and went to locate either a flashlight or candles. Dannie bumped her nose in search of Daniel's feet, then licked them until he finally relinquished his thumb when he could no longer fight the urge to giggle. He reached blindly for Dannie's head, patting it and saying "don't worry, Dannie, it will be all right" and wishing he could believe his own words.

A beam of light shot out from the kitchen and Janet returned, flashlight in hand. She directed it at his face and frowned when the light hit his thumb.

"Daniel," she said.

"Sorry," he mumbled. Another crash of thunder sounded and he jumped. The living room lit up for a split second as even more flashes of lightning filled the sky before the singular sound of the pounding rain returned.

He let Janet wrap his finger, shaking slightly as more thunder hit.

Damnit, why was he so scared? This wasn't the way it was supposed to work. Thunder storms were supposed to be a sanctuary, not a time to spend whimpering in the dark, praying that Jack would come home, praying the rain would stop, praying he was thirty-nine again and watching the storm play out from the comfort of his own living room window.

Even though Janet was sitting beside him, he suddenly felt alone. Alone and scared.

He wanted his parents.

They'd know what to do.

No, wait, that wasn't right. He'd never sat through a storm with his parents, at least not one he could remember. The desert had storms sure, but his parents were busy and he only remembered pounding rain producing very wet sand. The first thunder and lightning storm he'd seen and could actually remember, believe it or not, was the day of their funeral, when the social worker took his hand and he walked away from the freshly dug graves with only one small photo to remember them by.

He wasn't even sure they'd know what to do. And they were dead, long buried, and long past any miracle that no alien technology in the galaxy could provide.

No, Jack would know what to do.

Jack would pick him up and plop him in his lap and they'd sit on the couch buried in blankets. If they had power, they'd watch TV; if not, Jack would pull out an old book of Egyptian tales and let Daniel read aloud, distracting him from the noise of the rain, the thunder, and the bursts of lightning.

And if the storm managed to settle early enough, Jack would lift him up and they'd go outside and see if Mother Nature had left a rainbow behind the storm's wrath. She always seemed too, and Jack could always find it.

Jack could find many things.

Daniel considered himself very lucky to have Jack O'Neill for a friend, despite all the arguments they had or hardships they suffered. They always managed to make things right, to keep a foundation hidden somewhere, even when it took some time and effort to find it.

It was always there.

Best friends.

That hadn't changed. Jack was still his best friend.

But there was more. Somewhere along the line, Jack had become more than a friend caring for him, taking him in because that's what friends do. After all, his parents had friends. Lots of them, many of them quite close and dear. Yet, not one of them stepped forward and offered to take Daniel in. They gave him pity and hugs, yet no true comfort for the offspring of their friends.

More thunder sounded and Janet rubbed his back again. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the slow circles her hands were making on his back. Tried to concentrate on anything but the storm that wouldn't abate, and the fact that Jack was literally a universe away from him.

He truly felt six-years-old.

The rain pelted the roof and more thunder sounded. Daniel curled into himself and he felt Janet stop rubbing and Dannie lift her head from his feet. Further thunder came, more streaks of light as the storm gave its very all and Daniel shut his eyes tighter as if that act alone could make the clouds part and the sun enter and create yet another perfect early August evening. He heard Dannie scratching at the front door, something she only did when she needed to go out.

From what seemed a great distance, he heard the front door open and dismissed it as Janet letting Dannie out to do her thing, but he heard paws moving and felt a wet nose press itself into his uninjured hand. His eyes snapped open and Dannie nudged his hand. Daniel looked up.

Jack stood in the doorway, soaked to the skin and still wearing his  
work clothes.

"Jack?"

Jack smiled.

"I got home early. Saw it was raining, thought I'd come home."

Janet was prying his wet jacket off. "The roads are slippery, Colonel. You could have gotten yourself killed."

Jack shrugged it off. "Nah. I never went above thirty the whole time. That's why it took so long. I got in hours ago. Besides," a still damp hand touched the top of Daniel's head, "I wanted to go home." He looked down at Daniel, at the flashlight, and the empty coffee. "You didn't think about reading without me, did ya?"

Daniel shook his head. "Not the same without you."

"Damn right, it's not," Jack agreed. "Although," he touched Daniel's injured thumb, "I see you've been busy." He turned to Janet. "The whole neighborhood's out, it looks like."

Above, the thunder clapped and Daniel jumped. Jack dropped his hand.

"Flashlight?" he asked and Janet made her way to him, said object in hand and gave it to him. Jack carefully headed to the bookshelf and shined the beam across a shelf, before settling it on a large volume. He dragged it out and made his way to the couch, placing the text on the coffee table.

"I need to change and take a quick shower. But I bet Fraiser wouldn't mind hearing a story." He opened the book and skimmed across the pages. "She'd like this one, I bet. But don't read any further, okay? We haven't gotten that far and I don't like anyone else having the inside track. Could spoil my ending and all." He ruffled Daniel's hair. "I'll grab some more candles and another flashlight from the linen closet. Okay, kiddo?"

"Okay," Daniel agreed and wriggled out of the blanket just enough to reach the text. Jack nodded to Janet, and she positioned the flashlight over the pages.

Outside, the lightning sparked across the sky and the thunder rolled across the hills, but, for the first time since the storm had started, Daniel didn't even notice.

* * *

Back to Stories by Jennamajig. 


	17. 17 Sam's Shoes

**A/N:I know it's been a little while, and I apologize for the delay. Some people has been requesting more Sam and I did want to tackle her, and this is what came out. As always thanks for the reviews.**

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**

**Sam's Shoes**  
(#17 in Shoelaces LD universe)  
by Jennamajig

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SUMMARY: Daniel and Jack try to deal with Daniel being little Daniel. Inspired by the DJsSG-1Lverse yahoo list.

SEASON/SPOILERS: None.

DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.

* * *

Prior to his transformation, he'd always had a healthy, friendly relationship with Sam. Jack affectionately called them the science twins and Daniel felt he had found the closest thing to a sibling that he would ever have and he had hoped the feeling was reciprocal.

Since his regression into Lilliputian land, their relationship had changed. Yes, Sam was still friendly and inviting, but she was also awkward and unsure. Their shopping trip in the beginning had gone well, but Sam hadn't been alone, Janet was there to assist her.

It was when the two of them were by themselves that Daniel felt uncomfortable. There always seemed to be the slight tension, like those first moments of being the new kid in school or your very first date. It was obvious neither of them knew exactly how to start and Daniel feared that Sam was uncertain of how to treat him, like a child or an adult. He, himself, was confused being indefinitely stuck in this "awkward phase."

Therefore, when Jack dropped him off at Sam's place for the afternoon, Daniel wasn't exactly looking forward it, which bothered him immensely. Sam was his friend. He was hers.

At least, he hoped he still was.

Sam opened the door and he waved good-bye to Jack, before stepping inside her living room. He'd been to Sam's before, yet pint-sized, the place suddenly seemed daunting.

"I rented some videos," she told him and he brightened. He and Sam used to watch movies featuring archaeologists and scientists and hopelessly point out all the obvious errors the actors or the writers made when portraying the field. It was silly, yet incredibly fun, and was usually accompanied by a large bowl of popcorn that ended up as ammo to throw at the scene during particularly inaccurate scenes. Doing such things made them forget about saving the world and the burdens of long hours, and for, Sam, military standards.

So, he smiled and threw down his backpack filed with various allergy and asthma meds - Jack was way too overprotective - and headed for the Blockbuster bag sitting on Sam's coffee table. His smile, disappeared, however, when he looked through the bag.

Sponge Bob, several Discovery Kids videos, and a couple of Disney labels stared up at him.

Kiddie movies. He blinked. Did Sam think he'd want to watch these? He was angry for a moment, but it quickly faded. Sam was trying, right? He looked six and these were some good choices for a six year old. He tried to not focus on the fact that he was actually slightly tempted to pop the Sponge Bob tape in.

Instead, he lowered the bag and sat on couch, trying his best not to look surprised. He didn't want to hurt Sam's feelings.

It didn't matter. She immediately frowned. "I wasn't sure what to get and the woman at the video store said that these were some of best choices for..."

"A six year old?" he finished.

"Yes," she added softly. She sighed. "I'm sorry, Daniel."

"About what? These are great, Sam. Really. I appreciate it. I-" He stumbled and for a brief moment, he worried he might cry. He was completely torn and just wanted things to be normal between Sam and  
him.

Sam sat down on the couch next to him. She looked uncomfortable and he realized that his transformation wasn't just a nightmare for him. It was a burden to Jack, and now he saw it wasn't easy for the rest of his friends, as well. Janet took it in stride, but she'd already been through and was going through an interesting motherhood, raising an alien teenager. She adapted and tried and Daniel appreciated it. Teal'c treated Daniel nearly the same, but Daniel supposed even when he was big, he was still a child in Teal'c's hundred year old eyes.

It was even more apparent now that Sam was struggling.

He blinked and sniffed and before he knew he'd pushed himself up against Sam on the couch, his little body seeking comfort. Great, this was a wonderful time to act six when you just wanted Sam to see you were still the same old Daniel.

But he wasn't.

Sam reached out a hand and held it frozen in the air a moment before snaking it around his shoulders. She started rubbing.

"I'm sorry, Daniel," she repeated. "I wish I could help." She paused. "This is hard."

He sniffed again and looked at her. "I know. It's hard for me. I'm still here, Sam. I'm not..."

"Six?" she finished, this time. "My brain knows that, but then I just look at you, and well, it doesn't want to compute. When I went to the video store, the salesperson saw me wandering and asked what I was looking for. I said I was looking for a few videos for my younger friend and she asked how old you were and then, well, you see what happened. I listened to her and ignored my brain. I mean, you just love playing with cars now and look so different, that sometimes I forget that Daniel Jackson still exists.

"I miss him," she admitted. "And I know that's a horrible thing to say. You're not gone, you're sitting right next to me, but..."

"It's not the same," he said. "I'm not the same. Daniel Jackson, but not. I say words like yucky and throw tantrums and can't stop myself from doing such a thing. Last month I drew you a picture to hang on your fridge when the same time last year, you were trying to convince me to go on a joyride on your motorcycle.

"I miss me, too." He blinked again and hoped he wouldn't cry. He was sick of crying and sick of telling himself he was sick of  
crying.

Sam shook her head. "Oh, don't say that Daniel. And I didn't mean-"

"I know," he told her. "But we were friends, Sam. Just like I was friends with Jack. But now Jack acts like my father and I hate it, yet crave it. But you and I, well, I'm not so sure. Are you my friend, Sam?"

The question took Sam by surprise and he watched her swallow, wondering if she would cry. "Of course I'm your friend, Daniel. I'm lucky to be your friend."

"Even if I stay this way?"

She nodded and swallowed again. The next thing he knew, she's swept him up into a hug so tight he couldn't breathe.

"Sam," he muttered and she released him.

"I'm sorry about the videos," she said.

"It's okay. You don't need to apologize again. I, ah, actually do like Sponge Bob," he admitted and stared at the floor.

"And cars."

"And cars," he repeated. "But I'm not a child, Sam. You don't need to treat me, well, I guess most of the time, you don't need to treat me like one. I still know twenty-three languages and still have a college degree. But sometimes, I well, want...I don't know." He sighed. "I'm a bit of a basket case. Jack will tell you that."

She smiled. "No, you aren't. I can try, Daniel. But I think I might need a reminder now and then."

"Okay. I may still draw you pictures. I'm sorry if they aren't very good. I have six-year-old hands."

She laughed. "You have one-of-a-kind hands."

"Archaeologist's hands."

"Right. And speaking of archaeologists, I think there's one tape in there that you, me, and Daniel's everywhere can enjoy." She reached into the bag and withdrew a Disney label and put it in his hands.

"Atlantis," he read and a grin made it's way across his face. "I think we need some popcorn."


	18. 18 Shoelaces Revisited

**A/N:This one features Teal'c. Thank you again as usual for all the kind reviews :).**

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**Shoelaces Revisited**  
(#18 in Shoelaces LD universe)  
by Jennamajig

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SUMMARY: Daniel and Jack try to deal with Daniel being little Daniel. Inspired by the DJsSG-1Lverse yahoo list. 

SEASON/SPOILERS: None.

DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.

* * *

He was going to do it even if it killed him, which, at this point, seemed a likely possibility. He was determined and wasn't going to ask anyone for help.

No way. Not happening.

All him. His task. His goal. His mountain to tackle.

His shoe to tie.

It was that simple.

Daniel stared at his foot, at the long laces flopping over the edges of the sneaker, dragging on the floor of the SGC, already slightly gray from the dirt and dust. He sighed.

--

Last week, he'd discovered that he'd outgrown his Velcro strap sneakers and he and Jack had been forced to head back to the shoe store in the mall to get a new pair. Daniel was still unable to tie laces, despite his fumbled attempts to master the skill. When he thought Jack wasn't looking, he'd sneak into the living room and kidnap one of Jack's sneakers from it's place next to the front door and take into his bedroom. There he'd try to tie it. One loop, two loops, anything. But his little fingers didn't want to work together it seemed. His brain was frustrated, telling him it knew how to accomplish such a task, and not understanding why his hands wouldn't listen.

When they entered the shoe store, Daniel once again glared at the rows of shoes with their bright white laces. They mocked him and his current Velcro fasteners.

His thumb went into his mouth; a move he'd been trying so hard to stop. Jack clutched his hand.

"No big deal, kiddo. In and out," Jack told him quietly as the saleswoman approached them. It was a different woman this time; she was tall and average looking, and appeared to be her thirties.

"Can I help you?" she asked and Daniel was just thankful she didn't decide to comment on how cute she thought he was.

"Yeah. He needs sneakers," Jack imformed her.

"Just sneakers?" She started walking towards the display of children's shoes.

"For now."

She nodded. "Do you want to stick with the Velcro?" She gestured down to Daniel's feet and suddenly he wanted to run out of the store and hide.

Jack simply patted Daniel's head. "That would be best, I think," he said, but Daniel started shaking her head.

"No Velcro," he insisted. "I want laces."

"Daniel," Jack started, but Daniel wasn't giving in. He'd never be able to teach his fingers to tie his shoes if he never had a pair to begin with.

"No Velcro, Jack. Please." His eyes pleaded with Jack and he watched the man's brown eyes soften.

"Okay," he said softly. "We'll need laces, then."

Twenty minutes later, they walked out the store with Daniel carrying a bag that held one pair of brand new laced Nike sneakers.

He was happy to have them. Ready to master the task he'd taken for granted not so very long ago. He was ready to resist throwing the shoe across the room. Ready to stifle that part of him that got fed up so easily when he couldn't do things his brain told him he fundamentally knew how to do.

--

Jack had tied his shoes this morning and was kind enough not to say a word about it as he did it, instead chatting about their trip to the zoo for the upcoming weekend.

But first, he needed to be able to tie his shoes. It was a personal goal of his. He wanted to be able to bend down himself and reach for the laces if they came undone outside the lion exhibit. He didn't want the horde of zoo patrons to watch while Jack got down to tie them because the embarrassment would be too much to bear. He was six. If the world wasn't playing a cruel joke and this was a normal childhood, he'd be in first grade and first graders should definitely be able to tie their stupid shoelaces.

He walked down the corridor of the SGC and stopped in front of Jack's closed door. He kicked his toe of his shoe out and stared back down at the laces.

He sighed again and leaned against the wall. Here he was, in the middle of the hallway outside of Jack's office, and he'd have to wait for Jack to get out of his meeting just so the man could tie his freaking shoes. Because he sure as hell wasn't about to ask the SF down the hall to do it. It wasn't that the SF wouldn't, because he galdly would with a smile and a pat to Daniel's head. Just the mere thought of that action made him feel like he was going to physically combust, so he couldn't imagine his reaction if the action scenario occurred.

No, he'd wait.

He'd just stare at his shoes and listen for Jack's footsteps to approach and then he'd run into Jack's office where the "tying" would be done in private.

He closed his eyes and waited. And waited some more.

He heard footsteps. They were somewhat heavy and he opened his eyes, crossing his feet so the untied shoe was partially hidden. He didn't want anyone but Jack to see this lack of ability.

"Daniel O'Neill, why are you standing outside Colonel O'Neill's office? I had believed you were working with Major Carter."

Teal'c. Daniel let out a small sigh of relief. "Um, I was. But  
now I'm not. I'm waiting for Jack."

"Why?" Teal'c asked, his face free of expression as usual.

"Because," Daniel answered lamely, suddenly desperate.

Teal'c raised an eyebrow. "I see. Could you not simply wait for Colonel O'Neill in Major Carter's office?"

"Um, no. I want to wait here."

Teal'c said nothing, but Daniel watched his eyes scan his and stop directly on his crossed feet.

"You shoe appears to be untied," he stated.

"Yeah," Daniel agreed and slowly uncrossed his foot, revealing the dirty, undone shoelace.

"Do you require assistance?"

Daniel blushed a bit at the question. Teal'c was his friend, but he felt very overshadowed by the large figure now that he was a lot smaller. Teal'c would do anything for him, anything to protect him, he had no doubts about that, but he still didn't like admitting weakness in front of the warrior. Teal'c, despite his unfeeling appearance, was a very good listener and did not hesitate to offer help if he felt he could, but Daniel was reluctant to take help from anyone, even when he obviously needed it. He was hopelessly stubborn.

"Um," he stammered. He wanted to be able to tie it himself, but that wasn't happening. But he also didn't want Teal'c bending down in the middle of a well traveled hallway of the SGC to tie it, either.

"Perhaps you would like to accompany me to my room," Teal'c suggested.

Daniel brightened. How did he know?

"That would be great," he said and the two headed towards the elevator, Daniel careful not to trip on his shoelaces.

When they reached Teal'c quarters, Daniel sat on his bed and Teal'c pulled a chair from his table towards him. Daniel stared at the usual array of candles. He always found it ironic that for someone with so much invested in war, his room was one of the most peaceful areas on base. Kelnoreem needed to be completed in a quiet, calming environment he supposed.

Teal'c reached for Daniel's foot, but stopped short.

"Perhaps, you would like to try again."

Daniel shook his head. "I can't. I've been trying. My hands are too little, I'm too little."

"You are correct that you are physically smaller, but that does not mean you cannot accomplish such a task. On Chulak, some of the more adept warriors are smaller in size."

"I'm not a warrior, Teal'c. I'm, well...I'm six," he sighed, as he studied his dangling lace.

"That is an excuse," Teal's told him. "For the past several years, I have known you to be a great warrior who does not let anything stop him. Especially shoelaces."

Daniel blinked. "Teal'c..."

Teal'c merely raised an eyebrow again. "Are you not still that great warrior, Daniel? You have taught me that warriors can come in many different sizes and shapes."

The use of his first name did not go unnoticed. "Yes, I guess I did," Daniel said softly. He stared at Teal'c another moment before picking up the laces and clumsily pulling them together in two loops. He slid one under the other and waited for his finger to slip and the loops to collapse back into long, flopping, untied strings.

But they didn't. The loops stayed and Daniel's fingers managed to get one loop around and...

It was tied!

Well, to be honest, it was very poorly tied. The two loops were uneven and the bow wasn't nearly as tight as it needed to be. Daniel would probably take one step before the whole thing came undone again, but that didn't really matter.

He'd done it.

"It stayed," he whispered.

"Indeed," Teal'c agreed with a bow of his head.

He smiled. He did it. All by himself.

He couldn't wait to show Jack.

* * *

Back to Stories by Jennamajig. 


	19. 19 Hospital Shoes

**A/N: This one is three times as long as any other chapter and contains LD whumping. #20 is already in progress and will be the closing chapter to the series. Not that I will never go back and insert an interlude or two, but #20 will wrap it all up (with plenty of angst, of course). Thank you again for all the reviews. They make my day :).**

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**Hospital Shoes (#19 in LD Shoelaces Universe)**  
by Jennamajig

SUMMARY: Daniel tried to deal with being little Daniel. Inspired by the DJsSG-1Lverse yahoo list.

SEASON/SPOILERS: None.

DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.

* * *

"But, Jack, I don't want to stay here. Don't go." 

The words tore at Jack's heart. Daniel sounded so small and when

Jack looked down at him, the hospital bed seemed to dwarf him even further. His pint-sized archaeologist clutched the bed rail.

Jack sighed. "I have to, kiddo. They stretch the rules for parents, but I need to go home and feed Dannie. I'll be back before you know it." Jack hoped the use of the nickname might help, but Daniel frowned. He released his hold on the rail and plopped himself on the mattress.

"I know," he said, dejected. "I'm being stupid. You'll be back."

Jack watched Daniel do the self-hug thing, and it was even more painful to watch now that Daniel was six. "You're not being stupid, Daniel," he told him. "Hospitals are scary places."

"It's not that," Daniel said, but Jack didn't believe him for a second. "They treat me like a kid here. Look at the walls, Jack."

Jack didn't need to look at them. He'd seen the colorful Disney characters the first time the nurse had led them into the pediatric ward. He'd watched Daniel take one look at them and blanch. He'd been afraid Daniel would bolt.

"Only for one night," Jack had told him, trying to sound soothing. It was the second time he said these exact words in the last two hours. "By tomorrow afternoon you'll be eating ice cream and watching the History channel in our living from the comfort of the couch."

Ice cream. He made a mental note to buy lots of it on his way home to feed Dannie.

"I don't need my tonsils out." Daniel's thumb was creeping up towards his mouth and Jack reached out to intercept it.

"Dr. Richards seems to think you do." He rubbed Daniel's hand, hoping he'd settle.

"He's wrong."

Jack's brain sighed silently. He wasn't getting anywhere. He released Daniel's hand. "I'm going to go make a couple of phone calls. I'll be right back."

"Okay," Daniel agreed and Jack knew that he was terrified.

--

The whole ordeal had started four months ago, before Janet had strongly recommended turning Daniel's care over to a pediatrician.

"He has tonsillitis," she'd announced after peering down his throat. Daniel was outraged.

"That's a kid's disease!" he said, then winced, the mere act of speaking obviously a painful undertaking.

"Like it or not, you are physically a kid, Daniel," Fraiser pointed out. "I'll give you some antibiotics and you should be as good as new in a few days."

The next incident hadn't been as easy. It had been a month and a half since the visit to Janet and was their second trip to Dr. Richards' office. Daniel was listless, feverish, and refusing to eat. It took Jack three seconds to pick up on the sore throat. So off to Richards it was. Jack had grown fond of the physician after the way he handled Daniel during his initial visit. He figured it would be in and out.

It was, mostly. Richard's had frowned at the fact that it was Daniel's second infection, but said nothing as he scrawled the new information across Daniel's file. This didn't bode well, Jack thought. He'd pulled the doctor aside, remembering his own bout with the disease years ago. It had only taken one infection to raise a red flag and earn Jack a scary week long experience on the children's ward at the local hospital.

"It's too early to tell," Richards told him. "We don't remove tonsils after one infection anymore. Usually it only comes down to that if the child has over five bouts in one year. Daniel's only had two." He handed Jack a prescription. "He'll be back to normal in a couple of days, but make sure he takes all the antibiotics."

"Will do," Jack agreed.

The third infection occurred shortly after Daniel's first trip off-world. The fourth happened after Daniel broke his arm.

The fifth...well, the cast was off thankfully. Daniel had just learned to finally tie his shoes and spent three days tying everything he could his lay his hands on to improve his technique when Jack noticed the kid wincing when he swallowed. The fever followed and it was back to the pediatrician by the end of that week.

Richards wasn't happy to see Daniel again. He took a quick glace down the tiny archaeologist's throat before exchanging a look with Jack.

"It's time for those tonsils to come out."

Daniel wasn't thrilled, to say the least. He'd tried every which way to get out of the operation.

Jack wasn't buying it.

When Daniel finally realized he had no choice in the matter, he then tried to get Janet to do the surgery in the infirmary. But the red-haired doctor wasn't budging, either. She said the pediatric ward at the local hospital was the best place for him. Daniel was crushed, arguing about it even as they stepped foot into the hospital earlier that evening.

Daniel had clutched Jack's hand a little tighter as they made there way through the halls. Jack could tell that he was resisting the urge to stick his thumb in his mouth and trying to put on his best "I am not a child" expression.

"I don't need my tonsils out," Daniel said for the what seemed like the hundredth time. However his voice now had a whiny edge to it.

Ah, so now Daniel was going for the annoy-the-hell-out-of-Jack-until-he-caves tactic.

"Dr. Richards disagrees with you, kiddo." Jack had a feeling they'd be replaying this conversation later.

"Dr. Richards is wrong." Ahead of them, the nurse stopped at a room.

"Here you go," she announced cheerfully.

Jack saw Daniel swallow and squeezed his hand.

The room was too bright, and the comforter had Sponge Bob smiling right at him. Great. It was a double room, but thankfully the other bed was empty.

"I want to go home," Daniel pleaded, pulling Jack back towards the door.

"No can do." He had to be firm. Jack placed Daniel's overnight bag on the bed. He turned to the nurse. "He can wear his own pjs, right?"

She nodded. "For tonight, he can. He'll get a gown in the morning prior to surgery."

"Hey, he's right here." Annoyed, Daniel tapped his foot. The nurse smiled, a little too fake and perky for Jack's taste. This was not going to go well.

"Of course," she said before exiting, leaving Daniel and Jack with some semblance of peace. Daniel looked up at Jack, obviously ready to bat his eyelashes.

"We can go to the infirmary, Jack. I'll let Janet take my tonsils out. Please."

Jack shook his head and sighed. They'd been though this already. Several times. "Not happening. Listen, I know it looks like Nickelodeon and Disney threw up in here, but it's only for twelve hours. You've been though much worse and for a hell of lot longer. This pales in comparison to gate travel."

Daniel wasn't buying it. "I like gate travel. I don't like this."

"You'll keep getting sore throats that will keep you from the SGC and any hope of going through the gate. It's a necessary evil."

"I said I'd go to the infirmary."

"And I said it's not happening. So," Jack unzipped Daniel's bag as he spoke, "let's get you into your pjs and settled."

Daniel sighed. "It's six o'clock."

Jack shrugged. "Hospital rules. I could go and ask Nurse Perky for a hospital gown if you wanted?"

Daniel sighed and took the proffered pajamas. "This is under protest, just so you know."

"I think everyone knows, Daniel," Jack shot back. "Get changed."

--

Jack hung up the pay phone. Carter had agreed to feed Dannie, so at least that was taken care. The other Danny was a different story. That Danny was still scared and Jack wished a simple bowl of food could solve his problem.

Daniel was sitting up in the bed, using the remote to flip through the selection of children's channels the TV had to offer. At least he wasn't gripping the bedrails. If Jack had come back to see that again, he wasn't sure he wouldn't have caved.

"Daniel." The six-year-old turned his head.

"All kiddie channels," he complained, though Jack didn't miss the glint of relief in Daniel's eyes the moment he saw Jack.

"Children's ward. The History Channel isn't exactly every kid's choice when it come to TV." Jack pushed down on the rails so he could sit on the edge of Daniel's bed. "You okay, kiddo?"

"I'm fine, Jack. Stupid question."

Jack smiled. "No question is stupid. I believe a great philosopher, or maybe it was an archaeologist, who told me that."

"So?" Daniel blinked and looked down at his sheets.

"It's okay to be scared, you know." Jack figured if Daniel didn't want to admit it, Jack could admit it for him.

"I'm not scared," Daniel insisted.

"Your eyes so you are. Six-year-old eyes don't lie. Trust me."

"I'm not a kid, Jack."

"Not a conventional one, no. But you are scared, which is perfectly all right. I mean, a hospital's a big place. Scares the hell out of me and I'm...well, let's just say I'm well past the age of six."

"I know how old you are, Jack. You're not fooling anyone."

Jack snapped his fingers. "Oh, damn. And I thought I've convinced that nurse I was thirty." Daniel grinned. "See? I miss that smile.."

"I'm really not scared, Jack. Well, most of me isn't. I mean, it's just my tonsils, right? But there's this other part that well is..."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Is six and scared to death?"

"Yeah. Like the part that hates needles and didn't want to get his arm set. That part keeps thinking, will it hurt? Which is silly, because I know it won't. I'll be asleep."

"That's right," Jack agreed. "And you'll get ice cream. I had Carter make sure to stock up the freezer when she dropped by to feed Dannie."

"Feed Dannie..." Daniel trailed off and then his eyes brightened. "You're staying."

"Till they kick me out, kiddo. Which, in fact, I found out, they won't. Guardians get to spend the night. So here tonight, here tomorrow, before the surgery, and here when they bring you back to your room. Then we'll go home and left the hospital, your tonsils, and Sponge Bob behind."

"Yeah," Daniel agreed. "But Jack?"

"Yes, Daniel?"

"Um, I kinda like Sponge Bob. Um, can I, um..."

Jack simply grinned. He knew Daniel had to give into his kid urges eventually. And Sponge Bob, well, if Jack was honest, the show was a little addicting.

"We'll see what we can do."

--

Daniel hated being treated like the six-year-old kid he looked like.

Yet, at this moment, he felt every bit like that six-year-old kid.

"Say good-bye to Dad."

No, Jack couldn't go. He didn't want him to go. Please don't make him go away.

But the gurney started moving.

"Can I walk with you?"

Yes, please, yes, let Jack walk with them.

"Sure. We'll have to ask you to leave you when we get closer to the OR, though."

"Of course."

Daniel gulped. OR. A word he'd heard Janet say a million times, yet it never seemed as scary before.

He'd never had to battle a six-year-old psyche before. Why, oh why, was fate messing with him?

"Hey, kiddo."

Jack's hand reached for his, then squeezed.

"It's all right to be scared, you know. But you can do this."

Could he? Sure, he'd had surgery before. Emergency surgery, even. Life or death surgery. But that was when he had been an adult and usually too out of it to care. Now they'd poke him with needles and...

He closed his eyes. Don't think about it. Just don't think about it.

The gurney stopped.

"Okay, Dad, this as far as you can go."

"Daniel?"

Daniel peeled open his eyes and looked at Jack.

"Don't go," he whispered.

He saw Jack pause a moment. "I have too, kiddo. You've been through worse. Think about that."

He had been. But they had no bearing on what was happening now.

"Jack..."

The gurney was moving again, through double doors, into the bright white operating room. One that looked nothing like that ones on TV. Or the ones in the SGC for that matter.

Daniel didn't like this.

They asked him to scoot over onto the narrow operating table. The nurse was all smiles. Or at least Daniel thought she was. A surgical mask covered most of her face. But her eyes were kind.

Another masked woman appeared in his vision. He recognized her as the woman who'd stopped by his room last room. The anesthesiologist. Great, another person who'd smiled, then talked to him like he hadn't understood what was about to happen.

Which he did. Which, of course, was part of the problem. Too much information combined with that inane childish fear.

"You like balloons?"

Oh, God, he thought he might vomit. For several reasons.

He wanted Jack.

He wasn't sure if he answered, but obviously he did. The next thing he knew, the woman was holding a foul smelling mask over his mouth and nose and pointing to a rubber bag to the right of him.

"Big breath in, then blow it out like you're blowing up a balloon."

He didn't want to do this. He wanted Jack to be here. He wanted Janet to be here. He wanted to be thirty-nine and not dealing with this crap.

He turned his head to escape the mask, but the woman only followed him and pressed it firmer to his face. He was forced to take a deep breath in.

"And blow it out. Watch the balloon. Make it nice and round," she coaxed, not releasing her grip. He felt her tuck a finger under his chin, pushing the mask even tighter over his nose and mouth. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the bag fill again. He knew that he had no choice but to take in another lungful of the pungent sweet air and almost sobbed into the mask.

Jack was right. He was scared...

...and sleepy. He felt his eyelids start to droop. The "balloon" deflated as he took another deep breath in.

"Good," the anesthesiologist praised, but he didn't care. His brain felt fuzzy and suddenly his breathing sounded very loud, overwhelming all the rest of the noises of the OR.

Another breath and he closed his eyes...

--

His throat hurt. A lot. Worse than it ever had.

That was the first thought that entered his head as consciousness slowly crept in. His brain was full of cobwebs, but his throat was killing him.

And his mouth tasted bad. The foul sweetness of the anesthesia remained on his tongue and he licked and scrunched his lips to try and rid himself of the taste.

"Daniel?"

He knew that voice. That voice knew him.

"Come on, kiddo. Open those eyes."

Jack! That's it! He pried his eyes open and saw fuzziness above him.

"J-" he tried, but he couldn't get past the first letter. His throat hurt entirely too much.

"Shh. Don't talk. When you wake up some more I'll get you some paper and a pen. Oh, and some ice cream."

Ice Cream? He liked ice cream. He blinked, trying to get the image of Jack above him into focus.

Instead, he felt his eyes close and it was dark again.

--

The next time his eyes opened, he found himself staring at a white ceiling. But, unlike before, thankfully, it was at least in focus.

Still, there was no Jack.

He tried clearing his throat, but the action only reawakened a flood of pain through his entire throat. He swallowed and the pain magnified even more.

Damn it! He pounded his little fist on the bed.

"Daniel?"

A face came into his line of vision. Jack. He grinned.

"'ck," he tried to say, but failed. His throat was, as a normal six-year-old might say, one big "ouch." The thirty-nine-year-old side of Daniel's brain could come up with a few different, more colorful ways to describe the pain.

He realized his bed was moving up. And Dr. Richards was there. Standing next to Jack, who was pulling the tray table over. Daniel brightened when he saw a bowl on top of it.

Jack smiled. "Chocolate. No chips, though. They'll hurt."

Daniel just grabbed the spoon Jack offered. Chocolate would do just fine. The ice cream felt like heaven. He savored each spoonful, letting it sit, melt, and slide slowly down his throat.

"You did very well, Daniel," Dr. Richards said. "You'll be able to go home very soon."

Home? Now that was another word he liked. If Richards offered him something to help with the pain before he left, Daniel might kiss him.

"I'm going to write Daniel a prescription for antibiotics and another for Tylenol with codeine. The liquid stuff, since swallowing pills after a tonsillectomy is a whole different brand of torture. Make sure he eats something first, though. Codeine's not so great on an empty stomach. He'll probably need it for a first couple of days, but the great thing about being six is that you bounce back rather quickly." Richards smiled at Daniel. "By the end of the week, you'll forget you even had tonsils, Daniel."

Daniel raised an eyebrow as he shoved another bite of ice cream into

his mouth. Forget? Hardly.

"Trust me," Richards said. "Though don't let the pain keep you from eating or drinking. The severe pain should only last about three to five days, but I will warn you that it will probably get pretty bad for a day or two before it gets better. If the codeine isn't cutting it, though I'm pretty sure it should, call me and I can find something that'll work." He met Daniel's eyes. "That means you'll need to be honest with your dad, Daniel. Pain can mean many things. Some not so great."

Daniel glared. So Janet did have that long talk with Richards she had been threatening him with.

Jack just grinned and patted Daniel's head. "Oh, he will. He knows better not to. Right, Daniel?"

Daniel stuck his tongue out.

"Typical Daniel response," Jack told the doctor, shrugging.

"Of course. Now, I'll mention it again and it'll be on the discharge instructions, but I want to see Daniel again in six days. Just call the office when you get home and they'll get it set up for  
you. Oh, and a reminder - no heavy lifting or exertion for ten days."

"Exertion?" Jack asked. "He had his tonsils out, not something like knee surgery."

"Every surgery is a trauma to the body, Colonel O'Neill. No matter how minor it seems." Richards turned to Daniel. "Now, let's see how well that ice cream sits and if it stays put, I'll spring you."

--

The ice cream stayed put. It stayed put all through Daniel's discharge, all through the wheelchair ride to the lobby, and all through the car ride home. In fact, Daniel even fell asleep and Jack had to wake him when they pulled into the driveway.

That's when his stomach decided to revolt. He and Jack barely made it through the front door when Daniel bolted for the bathroom.

Throwing up after a tonsillectomy sucked. A lot. He found himself in tears by the end of it all. His throat was burning and there was a slight copper taste in the back of his mouth. A little bit a bleeding wasn't uncommon, Richards said, but Daniel still found it gross. And it certainly didn't help the nausea at all.

Jack's hand rubbed his back. "You think you're done, kiddo?"

Daniel nodded and took the toilet paper Jack offered. He tried wiping his mouth, but his coordination was off, no doubt due to the drugs still in his system. Jack took the task into his own hands and Daniel sagged back into his chest when he was finished.

He knew he must have looked miserable, because Jack scooped him up into his arms.

"Bed or couch?" Jack asked. "Just point."

Daniel wasn't ready for bed, so he pointed towards the living room, surprised to see a pillow and blanket already out.

"Ah, Carter. I guess we'll both owe her a box of chocolates, huh, Daniel?"

His response was a yawn.

Jack grinned. "Don't know what Carter would say to that response." He stopped in front of the couch and plopped Daniel down, his knees creaking a bit on the way down.

"Sorry," Daniel mouthed.

"For the knees? Not your fault, well, maybe a few of those knee injuries off world were your fault," he teased, stroking a piece of hair off of Daniel's forehead. "Want some water? Or ice cream?"

Daniel gripped his stomach. The thought of anything entering his mouth made him nauseous. He shook his head.

"Okay," Jack conceded. "But you toss your cookies again and I'm calling the doc."

Daniel shook his head again. He hated not being able to talk. He mimed writing.

"Oh you want a pen?" Jack grinned. "I don't know...I kinda like you this way. Can't talk back."

Daniel sighed.

"Okay, okay." Jack got up for a moment, then returned with a pad and pencil.

Daniel gripped the pencil, but he realized that his small hands couldn't hold the yellow writing implement very well. Damn it! He'd forgotten this simple fact. He used overly fat pens at work because of this problem.

"Oh, sorry, Daniel." Jack switched the pencil in his hand for a larger black one. Daniel smiled. It took all his concentration to hold the pen steady, as his dexterity skills were still somewhat offline.

"I wish" he wrote and then realized he could barely read the words. While Daniel had never had great penmanship, even when he had been thirty-nine, his childish scrawl seemed ten times worse. He lowered the pad and frowned.

Jack craned his neck to read it. "You wish... You wish what?"

He blinked. "You can read this?" he mouthed.

Jack looked confused. "Of course I can. Why do you...oh." Realization hit his face. "Oh, Daniel, it'll get better. Well, maybe not that better - I mean I've seen your adult handwriting - but it'll get easier. And I can read it. That's all that's important for now, isn't it?"

It was, really, Daniel knew. As long as Jack understood, everything was okay. He yawned again and closed his eyes.

He felt Jack tuck a blanket around his shoulders and a hand brush across his forehead right before he drifted back into dreamland.

--

"Daniel, you need to eat something." Jack offered Daniel the bowl of Jell-o yet again.

Daniel shook his head and reached for his pencil. A moment later he held up the pad.

Jack read the two words and sighed. "I know it hurts, kiddo, but you're haven't eaten anything since last night. It's dinnertime. You have to eat."

Another headshake was the only response he got. Jack sighed again, deeper this time, and put the bowl on the coffee table. "Drink something at least, then." He picked the glass of water he'd brought with the red jiggly desert.

Daniel frowned and Jack knew that the water wasn't happening either. His little..."wonder" was as stubborn as they come.

Whether at six or thirty-nine, Daniel was set in his ways and didn't always listen to reason. Jack needed to try another approach.

"Fine, Daniel. But when you get dehydrated and I have to drag your little behind back to the ER, you can deal with Richards. Or better yet, another pediatrician on duty who will treat you every bit like a six-year-old. Perhaps that doctor that fixed your broken arm, even..."

Daniel reached out and grabbed the glass. He glared at Jack as he took a sip, then grimaced.

Jack grinned. "Much better. Now, eat something, and I'll be able to give you some codeine."

--

Twenty-hours post surgery was a little bit better. Thirty-six hours post surgery was good. Daniel was still pain and still miserable, but the kid was slowly coming back to normal.

He still couldn't talk and Jack had to admit, while the silence was nice at first, he missed the little voice. Daniel was clingy as well. Carter had stopped by, bearing a new trio of Sponge Bob videos hot off the Target shelve and Daniel had spent the entire hour and a half of viewing time watching the first video pressed against Jack's chest on the sofa. By the time the last credits rolled, Daniel was sound asleep and Jack couldn't help stroking his soft blond hair.

"He looks so peaceful," Carter commented from her perch on one of the armchairs.

"Yeah," Jack agreed. "Throat's still bothering him a lot, and the doc said it will for a couple more days. When he's asleep..."

Jack's voice trailed off.

Carter flashed him a grin. "I understand, sir."

"Jack," he corrected. "We're off duty, Carter. You're allowed to call me Jack."

"Okay, sir, I mean, Jack." The word sounded odd coming from Carter's mouth and she looked uncomfortable saying it.

"Sir it is, then," Jack conceded and decided to change the subject. "Daniel told me you and he had a productive afternoon the time I left the two of you alone together."

"We did," Carter agreed, and shifted in her seat. "I should have done it sooner. It's just, we didn't - don't still, really - know if this is permanent."

Jack looked back down at the sleeping mass of child in his lap. "It's been almost eleven months."

"I know. But don't you miss him? Older Daniel, I mean. I know that's a bit unfair to say, really. Thirty-nine-year-old Daniel is in there still, but he's mixed with this child that I love. But it's different."

Jack shifted his eyes off of Daniel and back to her. "It is different. But this is Daniel. I love him, big or small. This packaging just takes some getting used to."

"You didn't answer my answer, sir. You're closer to Daniel than I am. Than Teal'c is. Don't you miss him?"

"He's right here."

"Jack." This time there was no awkwardness in the use of his first name. Only questions seeking answers.

"For crying out loud, Carter." He sighed. "Of course I do." His voice was soft. "But it doesn't matter what I feel because it doesn't mean anything. It's not fair to Daniel. To this Daniel, the one sitting in my arms, with those blue eyes. The one who just two days ago asked me not to leave when they wheeled him down to surgery. One thing isn't different. Daniel needs me."

"And you need him." The words weren't a question, only a statement. Carter held his gaze.

"I do," Jack whispered. "I think we all do."

--

On the fifth day post-op, the pain worsened. Richards had told Jack to expect this, but Jack realized he hadn't really been prepared.

Daniel wouldn't eat or drink. In fact, Jack had been unable to coax the six-year-old to consume anything in the past twelve hours. A glance at pamphlet Richards' set home with Daniel's post-op instructions said that a physician should be contacted if the patient hasn't had anything for over twenty-four hours. Jack had twelve more to keep trying.

Daniel wasn't eating, so the codeine was a no-no, yet he was in pain and needed the codeine. But if he took the codeine, Daniel threw up. It was a catch 22 and Jack was glad that Daniel's follow-up appointment was scheduled for 9:30 the following morning. That was also just around the cut off time for Daniel's need to drink something, anything.

Jack opened the fridge and poured yet another glass of apple juice. Daniel was going to drink this one, he told himself as he picked up the glass and headed towards the living room.

Sponge Bob was on again. Nickelodeon was having a marathon and it was helping distract Daniel from his throat. Daniel's pad was thrown on coffee table. A box of tissues rested on top of it.

Jack frowned at the tissues. They hadn't been there before.

"Daniel?"

Daniel turned his head at his name and Jack held out the glass of juice, just waiting for that all-too-familiar shake of the head.

But Daniel did neither. Instead, Jack noticed the kid had a tissue balled up in his right fist. Daniel looked worried.

"Hurts," he mouthed and Jack immediately reached for the tissue, unfolding it.

He saw red.

The tissue was dropped, the glass practically dropped down to the coffee table, apple juice splashing onto the writing pad.

Jack couldn't find Richards' number fast enough.

--

A tonsillectomy. Daniel had had a fucking tonsillectomy. And now Jack was back in a tiny curtained off cubicle in the ER, a frightened Daniel clinging to him as they both sat on the gurney waiting for Richards.

Daniel was bleeding from his throat. Which, in itself wasn't pretty, but Daniel wasn't only bleeding, he was swallowing blood, and that led to vomiting blood, a whole mess of it in his car, on the floor in the ER, and in the basin on the foot of the bed.

Jack thought he might be having a nervous breakdown.

The ER doctor who performed the initial exam wasn't too concerned. He said hemorrhage was the most common complication of a tonsillectomy and it happened about three percent of the time. Plus, he noted, this was secondary bleeding, occurring well over twenty-four hours after surgery.

Wonderful, Jack had thought. The words did nothing to make him feel better. He wanted to call Fraiser, but cell phone usage was a no-no and he wasn't about to leave Daniel to use a payphone in the lobby. Damn it, maybe he should have called her instead of Richards. She would explain.

Jack lost count as what puke session Daniel had finished not too long ago and Daniel was shaking in his grasp. An IV line was now up and running into Daniel's left hand. Jack kicked himself. Stupid. He should have called someone else before bundling Daniel up and heading out. But the second Richards said he should take him to the hospital as a precaution, all of Jack's common sense went out the window, replaced by parental need to make it all better.

Parental need. He blinked at the thought. Even though it was the routine he and Daniel had started to settle in, Jack hadn't been able to admit to himself that he was, at least on paper, Daniel's father.

Oh yeah, he told Daniel that he had given him something he missed very much. But Daniel was Daniel. Six, yet not, stubborn, and still clinging to the hope that someday, somehow, someone would be able to reverse this whole situation and give him back the adult life he had. That he deserved.

Jack stroked Daniel's hair, murmuring reassurances.

Like it or not, he was definitely a parent again. And like any parent, the moment he saw Richards, he breathed a tiny sigh of relief.

It, however, was short lived.

Richards got Daniel to open up and peered into his throat. He picked up Daniel's chart from a table along side the gurney.

"I know it seems scary," Richards started.

"No shit it does," Jack huffed, before he had a chance to think. He quickly shut his mouth and nodded for the doctor to continue.

"The bleeding isn't too bad," the doctor continued. "However, in the three hours since you both have been here, it hasn't stopped." He crouched down a bit to meet Daniel's eyes. "You dad says you told him you've been bleeding since this morning. Is that true?"

Jack tensed at the question and tensed even more when Daniel slowly nodded. When Richards had asked him over the phone how long Daniel had been bleeding, Jack almost panicked as he realized he had no idea. Thankfully, Daniel had reached for his apple juice stained pad and written "since I woke up" across the top sheet.

"Okay, then. We're going to try and stop it." Richards straightened himself up to address both Jack and Daniel. "We'll try applying some pressure first to the tonsil fossa, the surgical site. Add some epinephrine and it usually does the trick."

Jack felt Daniel flinch at the word pressure. "That hurts, I would guess."

Richards nodded. "It does." He looked towards Daniel. "Don't worry, Daniel. We'll give you a little something for the pain, I promise."

"What if it doesn't work?" Jack hated the "what if" game, but in his line of work it had to be played and played often.

"Then it'll be a trip back the operating room, I'm afraid, where we can cauterize the tonsil bed under general anesthesia."

"Peachy," Jack muttered. "Just peachy."

--

Daniel wasn't a happy camper. Not at all. Jack wouldn't be either, if someone came welding a long clamp and a sponge, and wanted to stick it down his throat.

The procedure hadn't worked and Daniel was in tears at the end. If anything, the bleeding was worse, Daniel had thrown up yet again, and Richards had ordered an additional IV to start replacing fluids faster. Daniel was now bleeding and definitely dehydrated from the vomiting.

"Looks like a trip to the OR is in order," Richards informed the pair. He gave Daniel a small smile, but the archaeologist only burrowed his head further into Jack's chest.

Jack sighed. "This will work, right? I assume he'll need to stay overnight."

"At least. If all looks good tomorrow, Daniel, you'll be out of here early tomorrow evening."

Daniel was twisting his head now and tugging on Jack's hand. He was mouthing something, trying desperately to communicate. Jack forced himself to focus. Stay, he realized, Daniel wanted him to stay.

He turned back to Richards. "They didn't let me through the door last time and Daniel's scared. Any way I could head up with him? Stay with him until he goes under?"

Richards smiled and nodded. "I think that could be arranged. I'll get an anesthesiologist to talk to you." He started to walk away, then turned to look back at Daniel. "You know, this just happens sometimes and although it's pretty scary, you'll be just fine, Daniel."

"Of course he will be," Jack told him. "Because there's no way he won't be."

--

Jack gripped the rail of the gurney as it headed into the operating room. He maintained eye contact with Daniel the whole time. Daniel blinked, and Jack knew what question was on his mind.

"I'm coming this time, kiddo. Not leaving till you're asleep, okay?"

Daniel's lips curled into a small smile as a couple of nurses lifted him onto the OR bed. Jack gripped his hand. Behind him, the anesthesiologist settled herself on a stool and pushed herself right in front of Daniel's head.

"I need you to take some nice big breaths through this mask, okay? I know you can't count for me, but I think your dad can help us both out." She lifted her gaze to Jack. "Right, Dad?"

Jack nodded. "Right."

"Great." She reached behind her to fiddle with something, and then swept a clear plastic mask above Daniel's face. "Backwards from one hundred, then."

Jack squeezed Daniel's hand. "One hundred. Ninety-nine. Ninety-eight." Daniel's eyes were already drooping and Jack watched the anesthesiologist lower the mask and cover Daniel's mouth and nosecompletely.

"Ninety-seven. Ninety-six. Ninety-five..."

The anesthesiologist held up her hand. "He's out. I'm afraid you're going to have to leave, sir."

A nurse appeared out of nowhere and tapped his shoulder. He was reluctant to leave and cast another glance at Daniel. The anesthesiologist now had a finger curled under Daniel's chin. Her other hand was out of view. Probably by the anesthesia machine, he guessed. He watched Daniel's chest move with each breath.

"We'll take good care of him," the nurse promised. "I'll show you to the waiting room."

Jack took one more look at Daniel, so unnaturally still, before heading out.

--

He called Carter. And Fraiser. He knew one of them would call Teal'c, maybe even tell General Hammond. The surgery wouldn't take long he'd been told. It could even be done by the time anyone else made it here.

The pediatric surgical waiting room was comfortable - cozy even. It had nice, big, fluffy couches, two TVs, even a coffee maker. A couple of other parents milled around, no doubt waiting for their own news about their child. He wondered if he should strike up a conversation, but decided against it. He doubted he'd be able to utter one word.

It wasn't this hard last time. Last time Daniel simply got his tonsils out. Snip, snip, half an hour and a fishing magazine later, Richards came out, all decked out in his surgical gear, and told him Daniel was just fine and in recovery. A half-hour after that, Jack was at his side and Daniel was groggy and speechless, but awake and doing well.

Now it was different. Again, supposedly "minor" surgery, but this time it was because something went wrong. And how was Jack going to be sure nothing else would go wrong? He and Sara had been holding out their own hopes in a waiting room much like this one, years  
previous, waiting to see if some supposedly wonderful neurosurgeon would work his magic on their son. He couldn't and Jack would never forget the look at his face.

He was not going there. Nope. Nadda.

He got up and poured himself a cup of coffee.

He stirred a plastic spoon in the Styrofoam cup until he felt droplets of scalding coffee hit his fingers. He hissed and pulled them back.

Coffee was not a good distraction.

He put his cup down and started hitting his hands against the front of his thighs. He tapped his feet. He skimmed through Woman's Day, despite the fact that under any other circumstance he wouldn't be caught dead reading such a magazine.

Anything to pass time. To not think.

He heard footsteps. He didn't look up, but knew every other parent in the room was turning to see if it was someone bringing news of their child. Good news, of course. No parent wanted to think differently.

"Colonel O'Neill?"

Richards. For a split second, he was afraid to look up. He braced himself, and did.

Richards was smiling. "He's fine."

Jack let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. A moment later, he saw Carter and Teal'c walk in. Carter looked at the doctor and then to Jack.

"Sir?"

"He's okay," he told her, grinning. "He's really okay."

--

"Look at all these cards, Daniel. I don't think you've ever made out this well after a hospital stay before."

That's because I wasn't six, Daniel wished he could say, but settled for tipping his head up and flashing Jack a smile.

The two of them were on Jack's couch. Jack was settled in the middle and Daniel was on his lap, his little body leaning into Jack's chest. It was a position he was extremely fond of, yet didn't like doing at the same time. The thirty-nine-year-old told him it was stupid; that he didn't need Jack to coddle him. The six-year-old craved it.

In this case, the six-year-old won.

In fact, the six-year-old has been in the driver's seat all week.

Daniel's emotions had been on a roller coaster in the last thirty-six hours, tears mixed with fear. He could still remember looking at Jack's face as the drugs started to kick in and thinking thank God he was there.

Daniel had never been more scared in his life. No even in his first childhood.

Jack was there when he woke up as well. So were Sam and Teal'c.

Janet dropped by bearing gifts, and even General Hammond had poked his head that evening. Daniel drifted in and out, his throat hurting, but for once he didn't care. That night, right until he had to leave, Jack sat next to his bed and stroked Daniel's forehead. They watched Sponge Bob on Nickelodeon in comfortable silence.

The same comfortable silence they'd enjoyed when Daniel was an adult, yet, not.

Daniel tried to not think about it. About his life "before." It had been eleven months. O'Neill was his last name and one thing this experience had taught him was that Jack was still there. He needed Jack. Jack needed him.

And, like it or not, Jack was more than a guardian. Jack was becoming his father. A routine he hadn't even been looking for was set. For every inch of fear inside of him during the last week, Jack had an equal amount shining in his eyes.

The nurses called him "dad" and Richards said "dad." Daniel never corrected him; it had gotten to be too much of a hassle. Jack took his lead.

Even so, Daniel would never be able to call Jack "Dad." It just wouldn't happen even if this were permanent, even if he had to grow up all over again. But it didn't really matter what Daniel called him. The implication was there, the roles were already in place.

He was six. He was also thirty-nine. Too smart for his own good, over-run with emotions, the most unconventional kid ever.

Yet...

He looked back up at Jack. The older man gave him a small smile and starting running his hands through Daniel's hair. He looked...peaceful.

"Throat bothering you?" Jack asked, the smile disappearing a second as a concern ran through his eyes.

It was, but it wasn't too bad. Daniel shook his head and Jack 's features settled. For the first time, Daniel could see how relaxed

Jack seemed.

Jack went off world less, now. Daniel knew General Hammond was taking about retirement and had suggested that perhaps Jack might want the SGC reins for a year or two before following suit. And while Jack said he didn't want to, Daniel knew the man had to be considering it. Jack was trying to think long-term.

Shouldn't he be doing the same?

It had been eleven months. Before he knew it, it would be a whole year. That gate address still wasn't working.

Would he ever be able to let go? Look ahead, like Jack appeared to be doing?

Daniel curled his body into Jack's, tucking his legs up. Jack started at the shift.

"Cold," Daniel mouthed and Jack reached behind him to get the blanket that hung on the back of the couch. Jack tucked the corners around Daniel's body and held him close.

"Better?" he asked.

Daniel nodded.

It was better. A little bit better. And right now, that's all he could hope for.

He closed his eyes and settled in.

--

Jack smiled as he watched Daniel drift off. The six-year-old weight in his lap felt so natural, so perfect. Yet...

Did he tell Carter the complete truth? Did he miss the "other" Daniel? Daniel missed being him, of course, and Jack could easily understand why. Still, if Daniel did ever go back to being "normal" Jack knew he'd miss moments like this very much.

Catch 22. He wanted his friend back, but don't want to lose the

child he already had. If given a choice, what would Jack choose?

This Daniel was safe. This Daniel didn't risk his life or encounter tragedy after tragedy...or did he? Did being six yet still thirty-nine count as a tragedy?

It was too much for him to think about. He and Daniel held out for a miracle that didn't seem to be coming. Or had it? Jack stared back down at the innocent face in his arms.

Choices didn't matter. Not when there was nothing to choose.

No, that was wrong. He did have a choice. Daniel had one, too. And it most definitely mattered. Maybe this was what this whole twist of fate was all about.

Jack had choices, and he knew exactly what to pick.

Fatherhood.


	20. 20 One Last Shoe

**One Last Shoe (#20 in LD Shoelaces Universe)**  
by Jennamajig

* * *

**SUMMARY: **Daniel tried to deal with being little Daniel. Inspired by the DJsSG-1Lverse yahoo list. 

**SEASON/SPOILERS:** None.

**DISCLAIMER:** The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.

**A/N: **This is the end, folks. I'm not saying that I may never dabble in this universe again with an interlude or two, but for now this series is complete. Thank you to all those who send me feedback; every word meant the world to me and kept the muse writing.

Yet again, huge thank-you to Devra for the alpha; I'm so lucky to have her help. Also, thank you to those gals that saw me through the writing of this (you know who you are g ).

**Warning: **Tissues needed. I teared-up while writing it, so heed the warning.

* * *

"One more chicken strip."

"But I don't wanna. I'm full."

"Too full for dessert?"

"Can I get coffee with it?"

"No."

"Jaaacckkk."

"It stunts your growth."

"Does not. That's an old wives tale. You just want to withhold caffeine."

"You betcha ya. And don't think about using the eyes. They haven't worked before; they're not working now. Oh, and the lip ain't gonna do the trick, either."

He was pouting. In the middle of the SGC's comissionary.

And Jack wasn't buying it. In fact, Jack was ignoring him, instead choosing to work on his own meal. A cup of coffee taunted Daniel from Jack's tray. He poked the chicken strip.

"Stop poking it and eat it."

"I'm not hungry."

"You need to eat."

"I will eat when I'm hungry. I'm not hungry. You're not my keeper."

Jack picked up his coffee cup and took a sip. "Oh, really? I've got a piece of paper that says that is exactly what I am." He put the cup back down on the tray. "It's one lousy piece of chicken, kiddo. I'm not asking for much here."

Daniel tensed at word 'kiddo.' It was Jack's nickname for him and normally it didn't bother him, but today it did. Today was different. Today, Daniel had sat in on a briefing between Hammond and SG-1 and gotten an in-your-face reminder of the upcoming anniversary when Hammond briefly mentioned a routine planet dial-in.

Three days from today it would be a year.

One whole year. 365 days since he'd been transported into another childhood, one that left him with all his memories intact, struggling to find out where he belonged. He thought it wouldn't bother him. He really did. He'd survived twelve months. He just needed to survive the rest of his life.

The rest of his life was a very long time.

Every month they dialed the gate address of the planet where it all began. A planet dubbed PX385, the numbers oddly appropriate - a reminder of his original age and what he'd been shrunk to - to what happened there. Every month, the last chevron would not engage.

In three days, it would be the last time they would ever try.

It was Hammond's order, prompted by Jack. They were getting nowhere, and Daniel knew that. Knew he had to face facts and try and move on. It was something he'd been dealing with, even more so recently. He'd spent over a week on Jack's couch recovering from tonsillectomy complications thinking about it.

He wanted to be able to let go. He really did. But something always seemed to be holding him back and try as he might, whatever it was wasn't willing surrender.

"Daniel. Chicken."

Daniel sighed and stared back down at the food in front of him. He picked a chicken strip, dragged it through the river of ketchup on his plate and then took a bite.

Would he ever be able to really let go? Better yet, did he really want to?

What would happen when defeat met him in three days? He was expecting nothing else. It was easier that way.

Was he just Daniel O'Neill now; was Daniel Jackson gone forever?

--

"Do you want the state of Colorado to see that you can pass the fifth grade?"

Jack turned the car off. Daniel stared out the window. This was not fair.

"I have already passed the fifth grade. A long time ago. I don't need to do it again."

Jack sighed. "I know, Daniel. But you also know that the birth certificate the SGC set you up with says you are six. By law, six-year-olds have to attend school. So, yes, we get around that by saying I am home schooling you, but unfortunately the state of Colorado still requires you to pass a nationally standardized achievement test after grades 3, 5, 7, 9, and 11. And the way we are 'pacing' it, so to speak, you finished fifth grade last week. Hence the trip here."

" 'Here' is an elementary school, Jack. They'll make me sit in a corner of the main office while some poor teacher takes the time to give me a test I don't need. Or want. Then I'll be a freak."

"You're not a freak, Daniel."

"On paper, I am. To Colorado, I'm six. I should be learning to spell and how to add one plus one. Not managing long division using a fat black number two pencil. I still don't understand why if the SGC can come up with a birth certificate for me, they can't doctor the paperwork so can avoid this." Daniel sighed deeply, pressing his back up against the seat.

"The SGC can only do much without arising too much suspicion," Jack countered. "This makes things much easier if you ever want to go back to college and earn another couple of PhDs."

"Then do I have to earn my PhDs all over again?" Bitterness crept into his tone and it sounded wrong. His voice was six as well, and sounded like it. All he needed to do was cross his arms.

Which, of course, was exactly what he did. He couldn't help it. He also couldn't stop the "please don't make me do this" that popped out of his mouth. Perhaps, if he added the eyes this time...

"Daniel. What have I told you about the eyes? It's only a couple of hours of your life."

Only a couple of hours? Yeah, right. It would be another couple of hours in a few months for seventh grade, then more if he planned on moving forward. At this rate, he predicted he could "finish" high school by the time he was ten or eleven.

And what happened when he did that? Did he have to go back to college, get his degree, re-earn his PhD as Daniel O'Neill?

Even though he remembered every moment of his previous life, he was starting all over from scratch.

--

Two days later, Daniel tried to push the words "starting from scratch" out of his brain. Instead he focused on the sight before him.

To almost everyone in the control room, it was just like any other pre-mission Stargate dial. A MALP was waiting to reveal whatever lurked beyond the wormhole and deem it safe for a team to explore it.

If a wormhole formed, that is.

This was Daniel's last chance, his last hope. If the seventh chevron didn't engage, then his fate was truly sealed. Daniel Jackson would cease to exist and Daniel O'Neill would try and go on with his life.

Standing next to him, Jack laid a hand on his shoulder, then gave him a gentle, reassuring squeeze. Daniel appreciated the gesture, but it didn't help his nerves.

Daniel braced himself for disappointment. The sooner it came, the sooner he could let go. Jack appeared to have let go. Jack acted more and more like his father and less and less like his friend.

Daniel liked that. He liked it a lot. He liked drawing pictures and watching Jack light up when he presented his choppy artwork. He liked sitting with Jack on the couch and even liked the occasional unnecessary hug.

But Daniel missed the things he'd lost as well. Driving, credit cards, taking care of himself. It was hard to go back to being completely dependant on other person for your well being when he'd spent so many years doing it all on his own.

The sixth chevron locked and the Stargate spun again, making its way around to that seventh symbol, the one that never locked. Daniel shut his eyes. He couldn't watch it happen it again. It just needed to happen and then maybe Jack would take him for ice cream, preferably coffee-favored with chocolate sprinkles, and then they'd go home and watch that special on the History channel he'd been bugging Jack about.

"Seventh chevron...locked?"

Daniel's eyes flew open just in time to see the whoosh of blue as it spilled into the gate room. His eyes widened and he turned to Jack, his mouth slightly agape.

Jack looked just as surprised, but gave Daniel a smile.

"Guess it's your lucky day, kiddo," he said.

Daniel just looked out at the open wormhole. The MALP made its way up the ramp and disappeared into the blue.

He'd spent so much time thinking about what he'd do when PX385's Stargate address didn't work.

He had no clue what to think when it did.

--

Daniel sat at the briefing table. Still too short for his legs to reach the floor, they were swinging back and forth, nervous energy keeping him from sitting still.

Underneath the tabletop, Jack laid a hand across his knees in a silent plea to; immediately he brought his legs to a halt.

"The MALP telemetry looked clear," Sam said. "There was nothing to explain way we haven't been about to contact PX385 before."

Daniel let those words sink in. No reason. So why? Why now? Was fate tempting him? Or was it just waiting to deal him another harsh blow?

"We sure it's clear?" Jack asked. "We had thought it was all well and good last time until the head ten-year-old decided Daniel needed a 'present.'"

"With all due respect, sir, they didn't actually harm Daniel," Sam pointed out.

Daniel couldn't help snorting at her remark. "Didn't harm me? Sam, look at me."

Sam took a moment to study him. "I know, Daniel. You're...younger. But you're healthy. What if they can't reverse this? Is it worth risking Daniel's life?"

"Indeed," Teal'c put it. "While I empathize with DanielJackson, I also do not wish to endanger his life. The planet's inhibitants did not explain their intentions when this incident occurred."

Jack let out a sigh. "No, they didn't."

Daniel stared down at the table, and stared at his hands. His six-year-old hands. This was his last chance. But what if Sam was right? What if it meant more disappointment? Could he handle that?

On the other hand, he'd been setting himself up for failure before the wormhole even established itself; therefore, it would be no different than before.

He wanted to try.

He wanted to go off world. He lifted his head and turned his gaze towards General Hammond.

The General, for his part, had been silent through most of the negotiation and Daniel figured he was weighing the pros and cons. Daniel knew even though it had yet to be discussed, his emotional well-being was a large factor.

Hell, he worried about his emotional well-being, too. But he wanted to go.

He had to. He needed to.

So he met Hammond's eyes and opened his mouth.

"Please, sir. I need to go."

Two hours later, the address was being dialed and Daniel watched the wormhole towards his future form one more time.

--

This was it.

The end.

Or was it?

Daniel was shaking as soon as his feet touched the ground of PX385. Seriously shaking. Shivers racked his body in way he'd only experienced once before, and that was after his very first trip through the gate.

Jack's hands were on his shoulders.

"Daniel? Are you cold?"

Daniel shook his head, tried to control his body, but it wasn't listening. He felt on edge, more nervous than he had ever been in his entire life.

"I'm scared," he whispered into the air, soft enough so that he hoped no one heard him. Sam and Teal'c were a few feet ahead, scanning the trees.

"I know you are." There was a reassuring squeeze on both his shoulders. Jack had heard him.

But that was okay, Daniel realized. It was okay because he was scared. For he was still six and six-year-olds were allowed to be scared.

Daniel felt a pit form in the deep depths of his stomach.

They walked onward towards a break in the trees, just as they had the last time they'd visited PX385. Within fifteen minutes they hit the village. The village of the young.

It was just as Daniel remembered it. Children were everywhere and there wasn't a single adult in view. Smiling faces, playful actions, a world so seemed different from Earth. Peaceful.

Innocent.

Yes, that was it. This place was completely innocent.

It was interesting viewing the planet through a true child's eyes. Everyone wasn't "small," they were his size and when he turned back to look at teammates, he was almost taken aback by how gigantic they appeared in comparison.

It began to feel surreal. Nausea stirred in Daniel's gut and the all too familiar chill once again descended on him again. On the wake of the chill came the shaking, followed by blurry vision and when Jack reached out to touch him, he subconsciously moved away.

He had no clue why. Jack wasn't the enemy.

What was happening?

A boy stepped out. He was taller than Daniel was, yet Daniel had a sense that he knew him. He was very familiar.

It was all very familiar.

And yet, it wasn't.

He was being dragged. No, wait, that wasn't right. He was being led, or pushed, towards a brick building. Jack was shouting something at him, but he couldn't understand it. The words sounded so far away. Sam and Teal'c were moving and...

"You have returned to us."

The words were crystal clear. But it wasn't a child speaking to him. The voice was female and soft.

Daniel felt hands let go of him, and he stared back out towards Jack, towards Sam and Teal'c. But the world spun, the green of the grass crowding his vision.

"You need rest. You have a long journey ahead of you."

Daniel closed his eyes and everything faded away.

--

Something was different.

Before Daniel even opened his eyes, he felt it. He wasn't sure what "it" was exactly, but he did know "it" was big. He felt warmth hit his face and a hand brush his forehead. It was soft and calming.

And feminine.

"Mom," he muttered, the words escaping his mouth before he realized how ridiculous it was.

"Oh, Danny, if only."

Daniel bolted up. No, it couldn't be. He blinked, his vision still fuzzy. He was in a room; the walls were red and bumpy. He shook his head. Brick, the walls were brick and there was a woman...

No, that wasn't possible.

"Mom?" he repeated, his breath hitching. This was a dream. It had to be. Anything else would be just too cruel.

The woman shook her head, her eyes closing a moment. "I'm not who you think I am, Danny."

But you are, Daniel wanted to scream. She sounded just like her, his name rolled off her tongue in way he hadn't heard in over thirty years.

What was happening?

He blinked, felt the tears forming in his eyes. He tried to keep them in. He shouldn't be crying in his dream. Dreams were the only place he couldn't cry. The only place where being six didn't get in the way.

But the tears fell, trickling down his nose.

This wasn't happening. This was a horrible, horrible joke. He wasn't on PX385. The seventh chevron hadn't locked. Instead he was trapped in some soon-to-be-nightmare that would soon have him waking up with a scream, his legs tangled in his Sponge Bob comforter and sweat covering his face. Then he'd toss the covers aside, brace his feet for the cold floor, and sneak into Jack's room.

Jack would help him forget.

The woman moved closer, held her hands out. He stepped back. He didn't want her touching him.

She wasn't real. She couldn't be.

But he could only go so far before his back met the rough brick covered wall. Her blue eyes stared at him.

Blue eyes so much like his own.

"Mommy," he whispered and felt so very six. The first time he'd been six, she's been alive. He looked at her, kept thinking he'd walk up to her and then she'd disappear.

She didn't. He reached out a hand, expecting to meet air, but it hit flesh. Solid skin and bone, the warmth of blood pumping through veins, the smell of her perfume - the kind his father had shipped all the way from New York.

"Are you...?" He couldn't finish his statement. If he did, he was afraid he would get the answer he really didn't want to know. Or believe.

She shook her head again. "Yes...and no." She smiled. "Oh, Danny, I only wanted to make you happy."

Happy? He didn't understand. He started shaking his head back and forth quickly. The motion made him dizzy, but he didn't care. "Who are...?" He swallowed past the lump forming in his throat. "What are you?"

There, he'd asked.

She took a deep breath. "I'm...I live here. These children belong to me."

"No," he said, "but you're...you look like..."

"I know. I don't have a real appearance. Or my own body, if you will. I can only appear as you want me to."

No. That wasn't right. He didn't want her to be...or did he? The tears were falling faster. "I don't want...I mean, I need..." He couldn't get the words out, and the tears increased, quickly turning into sobs.

She reached out for him again and this time he didn't move away.

--

Jack was beyond worried. The events of last year flashed before his eyes and he couldn't help thinking that these 'kids' were up to no good. Would they return Daniel in one piece? Would he be presented with an even younger Daniel?

Jack did not want to deal with an infant Daniel. He had a hard enough time dealing with the six-year-old.

"You think they're harmless this time, Carter?"

Carter started at the brick structure. Jack had already tried pushing his way in, but the locals didn't like that. Despite the fact that no one on the planet appeared to carry any type of weapon, Jack knew they possessed something far more damaging than any P90.

He figured Daniel would agree.

Carter was looking at him. Oh, right, he'd asked her a question

"He'll be okay," he muttered.

"Who are you trying to convince, sir?" Carter asked and he shot her a look. She turned to Teal'c who raised an eyebrow.

"These people do not appear threatening, O'Neill. I could attempt-"

"No," Jack cut him off. He wasn't sure why, but he knew they shouldn't enter the building. He felt down to the very essence of his being, this was something that had to happen and he had to let Daniel make his own choice.

Choice? Where the hell had that come from?

A little girl stepped forth and tapped her fingers on his thigh. He stared down at her and she smiled.

"It is for him," she explained and Jack had the strangest sense of déjà vu.

All he knew was he wasn't leaving this place without Daniel.

It didn't matter if he was six or thirty-nine - he was bringing Daniel home.

--

Daniel didn't want to let go. Even if she wasn't real, at this very moment - to him - she was. If he let go, she may disappear for good and shatter the illusion.

No, he wouldn't let go.

"Danny," she muttered, her voice low. "We need to talk."

No. He didn't want to talk. He buried his face into her shoulder, trying to avoid the inevitable.

She sighed and he felt her gently release him. He shifted his gaze to ground, not wanting to meet her eyes, but her hand reached out and tipped his chin up.

"You know why you're here," she told him.

He shook his head. "No, I don't." He had no clue. For almost twelve months this possibility never existed. A stubborn chevron stood between him and the option of regaining any sense of the life he'd had before. Even though the memories remained, the true sense of being thirty-eight was gone and he was hard pressed to remember how it felt to walk around in that body. Now he was in a constant battle with his new child mentality.

He'd almost accepted it. He'd been ready to try and move forward. He had a new name, a new goal to work for. When Jack hugged him it seemed as if that tiny hole deep inside him didn't exist.

He knew then why he was seeing her.

He knew then what she meant.

"You have a choice," she told him.

Did he really? It had be so long? Did another option exist? Why a year? Why not a week, a month? What was the point?

He understood, yet he still felt more confused than ever.

"Come." She gripped his hand and started to walk. He sniffed, his nose clogged from crying, his chest tight and he could only hope he wouldn't have an asthma attack.

Could he even have an asthma attack in a dream?

He let her lead him to a small swallow pool of water. One he swore hadn't existed before. Did she create it? Did someone create all of this?

"Look," she instructed and let go of his hand. He looked at her hesitantly, but she only gestured to the water. He shut his eyes and pointed his head down and counted to himself.

One, two, three.

His eyes opened and the image that greeted him almost sent him barreling back.

It was him.

No, it was the other him. The same blue eyes blinked at him, but wire frame glasses covered them. The same glasses he hadn't used since his transformation happened. He lifted a hand up to his eyes.

There was nothing there. Yet the reflection didn't change.

Daniel felt a chill curse through him. He leaned in closer, studied himself in a way he never had before. His hair was short, as he remembered it. Some lines had started to form around his eyes and he looked...incomplete.

Daniel knelt down and touched the water, watched the reflection ripple in the disturbance his fingers created.

He was speechless. He could only look at her, eyes wide.

"I don't understand," he finally managed to utter.

"You do," she argued. "I wouldn't be here if you didn't. You know what must happen."

"Is this a test?" It had to be. Anything else made no sense.

"It's what you make of it." She lowered herself down to Daniel's level. "Something is missing and only you know what."

"You're missing," he blurted out, surprising himself. He hadn't truly thought about his mother in years. At least not in the way he had for some time after the accident.

"I'm not who you think I am," the woman replied. "I'm who you want me to be. But, unfortunately, Daniel, that wish cannot be fulfilled."

"But that's what missing," he insisted. "You and Dad..." He coughed, feeling tears strike again. He hated crying. Was so damn sick of it.

She placed a hand on his shoulder. "I know. But the past has happened and you cannot change it."

"Then why I am here? Why I am small again? Is this some kind of cruel joke?" Daniel could hear the bitterness creeping into his voice.

"It's what you make of it," she repeated.

"That's not an answer!" he shouted, shoving himself to his feet and pushing her hand away.

"It's the best I can offer, Danny. Only you can do the rest." She smiled at him sadly. "I gave you a gift, but you have not fully recognized it."

"This," Daniel spat out, pointing at himself, "is not a gift. This is my life."

"Your life is a gift," she countered. "And it's not just for you."

He felt like throwing something against a wall. This was going nowhere. "What?"

"It is up to you to figure this out. I can't help you any more."

"Then I want to go home," he told her, swatting at the tears falling from his eyes yet again. He turned away from her, and faced the wall, tired of people watching him cry. And he sure as hell was tired of statements that made no sense, yet still managed to unearth feelings he'd thought he'd buried forever.

"You must first make a choice. And when you do, you will find your way home."

Daniel blinked, his tears blurring his vision He shook his head again. "No..." he muttered and spun around back towards her.

But all that greeted him was an empty room and the swallow pool of water.

--

It had been thirty minutes and there was no Daniel. Jack was trying not to worry, but found it nearly impossible. He couldn't help but worry. Daniel was his friend.

Daniel was very nearly his son. Had been his son on paper.

The moment that word entered his brain Jack physically took a step back. Carter gave him an odd look.

"You all right, sir?" she asked.

"Yeah," he muttered. He needed to clear his head, but the word "son" continued to echo through his mind. Like it or not, that was what Daniel was becoming. He realized it during the tonsil fiasco, but it still seemed unreal.

Not that they hadn't been treating it as anything else, but when a shred of hope was still alive, it showed. It left Daniel uneasy and while the papers that declared him Daniel O'Neill had been signed for some time, the emotional acceptance of them had yet to come full circle. Yes, Daniel was almost there, but not quite.

He, on the other hand...

Jack threw his hand up into the air. "What the hell is taking so long? Either they give us back a six-year-old or they give us back a thirty-nine-year-old. And there better be none of 'it's wonderful' crap. They better deliver Daniel and they better deliver him soon!"

He didn't realize he was shouting until Carter frowned and several children turned to stare at Jack.

Instincts be damned. He was going in and no one was going to stop him.

--

Daniel found himself back at the water. This time, the only reflection that stared up at him was a six-year-old face streaked with tears.

He had no clue how to proceed.

Daniel wanted to be big again, in fact he wanted his old life back so badly it hurt, yet if that was case shouldn't he be thirty-nine already? Shouldn't he be on his way home now?

/You must make a choice./

Her words echoed through him and he shivered slightly. He had a choice. He wanted to be normal again. But why wasn't it happening?

Why was he still six?

Daniel's legs suddenly grew heavy and he sat down on the ground. One shoelace was untied and he twirled it between his fingers a moment.

Shoelaces.

That was where his whole emotional ordeal had started. Not when he was standing on PX385 in clothing way too large for him. Not when Jack scooped him up in his arms and took him through the gate. Upset, shock, yes, those things happened. But it wasn't until Sam handed him a tiny sneaker with tiny white laces that it truly sunk in.

It wasn't until clumsy hands failed to successfully complete a task he once did with such ease that he knew that this wasn't going away. He had launched the shoe across the room and the frustration only had gotten worse with each passing day.

His mother had taught him how to tie his shoes the first time. The first time around, Daniel hadn't learned until he was nearly eight. In Egypt he went barefoot or wore sandals. The few occasions that involved laced shoes were few and far between, so when they cropped up, his mother tied the laces without a thought.

When they got to New York, she bought him a pair of red sneakers. Daniel had never seen anything quite like them before. He'd been so excited when the saleswomen put them on his feet. But the excitement faded when he discovered he had no clue how to tie them.

The first few days in his sneakers, the laces came undone a lot. It seemed like every other second Daniel needed to ask his mother or father to retie them.

But his parents were busy with the upcoming museum exhibit and he felt guilty for distracting them every time his shoe was untied. So when he sat down so mom could tie his laces for the third time in one day, he asked her how to do it.

Almost eight-year-old fingers were better coordinated then five-year-old ones, so Daniel watched and copied. The first try was very, very sloppy, but he got better.

In a week, he could tie almost as well as Mom could.

The day they died, he'd stood in front of his parents and pointed to his feet.

"See?"

They were so proud and he could still remember the smile his mother had given him.

Six hours later, his world had changed and shoelaces were no longer important.

Until now. Daniel looked at the laces entwined in his fingers. Without thinking about it, he lifted his other hand and together both hands retied his shoe.

It was almost perfect.

An accomplishment. He'd been so excited and the smile on Jack's face rivaled the one his mother had given so many years ago.

Jack was proud of him. Jack was...

...the missing piece.

Was that what the woman had meant? She'd told him the gift wasn't just for him. Was it for Jack?

Suddenly his choice didn't feel so simple. He knew why he was still here. And it only confused him even more.

He started to run his fingers across the loops of his tied shoelaces, when he heard a door open. He turned...

"What the...?"

...and found himself looking straight at Jack.

--

Jack wasn't completely sure what had happened. One moment he was marching towards the mysterious brick building, the next he was being shoved through a door and dropped into a room. He heard a slam from behind him and turned to see where he was.

"What the...?"

That's when he saw Daniel. Six-year-old Daniel, looking the same as he'd looked for the past year. Daniel's face was tear-lined and Jack resisted the urge to scoop the child into his arms. Instead he settled for a simple, "Daniel."

"Jack." Daniel blinked at him and looked confused. "Why are you here?"

"You were taking too long," he said with a shrug. "I'm guessing it's no-go, huh, kiddo?" Jack again fought the temptation to step closer. Daniel needed his space, especially if this trip had been made in vain.

"I don't know if it is." Daniel sniffed and lifted a small hand to wipe at his nose.

"Daniel, don't do..." Jack reached into his pocket and withdrew a travel-size package of Kleenex. Because of Daniel, Jack never went anywhere without tissues. He pulled one out and offered it to him.

Daniel took it and tried to blow his nose. He was failing miserably and Jack couldn't stand to watch anymore.

"Here." He stepped in and took the tissue, holding it in place under Daniel's nose. "Blow."

Daniel did, but pushed himself away the second he was done.

"I don't need your help," he insisted. "I..."

"I know," Jack muttered. Daniel didn't like the fact that he needed help. Daniel was independent, through and through, and being six had done some not so good things to the linguist's confidence levels. Daniel's limitations were many and even though Daniel had come a long way this past year, the frustration was never completely forgotten.

"Jack, I..."

Jack watched Daniel swallow and shift his feet. Jack noticed one of shoelaces had come undone. Without hesitation, Jack started to bend down to fix it.

"No!" Daniel abruptly stepped back, leaning down to tie the shoe himself. It took a few moments, but Daniel managed, just as he had been for the past couple of months.

Jack wanted to kick himself. Of course. He'd forgotten. Daniel could tie his shoes now and was quite proud of the fact. He practiced all the time.

What kind of parent was he?

Daniel straightened back up. Jack wasn't sure how to proceed from here. Daniel was still six - did that mean it was over and they went home? Locked PX385 out of the computer forever and let Daniel grow up as normally as he could?

Jack had no clue what to say.

"I'm sorry," were the first words his mouth managed to utter, but they sounded hallow and empty.

Daniel shook his head. "It's not over," he stated.

"It isn't?" Now Jack was confused.

"I have to make a choice."

"Oh." This was the end all right. Jack felt a pang of sadness stir up inside him. He knew that even though he wanted his friend back, he'd miss this Daniel. He'd just gotten used to this Daniel. Gotten used to being a dad, again.

There was that word again. This wasn't fair. Not to Daniel. Daniel deserved his life back. Would get his life back.

Starting now.

"So why haven't you? Made your decision, that is?"

Daniel bit his lip and Jack could see the six-year-old fighting to keep his thumb down at his side.

"I thought I had."

Jack frowned. "You haven't? Daniel, you've wanted to be an adult since this whole thing started."

"I know." Daniel kicked an imaginary piece of dirt. "She told me it was a gift, but that it wasn't just for me."

"A gift? And who is 'she?'"

"My mother."

Jack's eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to ask the first of a million questions, but Daniel held up a hand and shook his head.

"She wasn't really my mother. Please, Jack, I know you have questions, questions which I don't know all the answers. Hell, we probably even have the same questions." Daniel closed his eyes a moment, taking a deep breath before opening them again and meeting Jack's eyes. "I need to talk to you."

Jack nodded.

"I...miss my old life. I miss driving and coffee and being able to use my knowledge to its full potential. I mean not needing a boost to reach the top shelf of the fridge, I miss being able to hold my emotions back and not cry at the drop of a hat. I miss being taken seriously. I miss feeling like the adult I am...not feeling confused because part of me feels like a child and part of me doesn't. Sometimes it's too much to bear and I feel confused because part of me wants to do something as simple as use a million curse words, yet another part knows that is not what a child is supposed to do.

"On the other hand, being six hasn't been a totally worthless experience. I like watching Sponge Bob and playing with Matchbox cars. I didn't do either of those things the first time around. I like coloring, even though I'm frustrated when I can't stay inside the line. I like hugs and..."

Daniel took a deep breathe before continuing and Jack held his.

"It's your gift, too, Jack. That's what she told me. I miss my mom. And my dad, but honestly, today I didn't miss him quite as much as mom. I have you and..." Daniel sniffed and Jack knew what was coming next. Two second later, he had his arms around Daniel.

"...and you..." Daniel couldn't finish and Jack just hugged him as tightly as could, reveling in the warmth of the small body.

God, he would miss this. He needed Daniel as much as Daniel needed him.

Gain a friend, lose a child. Keep a child, lose a friend. No one was a winner.

He stroked Daniel's back. "It's okay," he soothed.

"It's not," Daniel muttered into his shirt. "Because I want to be big and you want me to stay small. It's not fair."

"Who says I don't want you to be big again?" Jack didn't stop rubbing. Daniel didn't need to feel guilty about this. This was Daniel's decision and Jack knew Daniel could never be completely happy if he based it solely on Jack's welfare.

"Because." Daniel inhaled through his nose and Jack could hear the clogged nasal passages and felt the congestion building in Daniel's chest. An asthma attack was never far behind this; Daniel couldn't afford to get any more upset or Jack though he might need to take him back to SGC and Daniel's chance would really be gone.

Forever.

"Because why?"

"Because you...I want to be your son, Jack. But I..." Daniel nuzzled his head into Jack's shoulder, turning away.

"Can't," Jack finished. "I know."

He did. He knew after the tonsil incident. Daniel was trying so hard to let go, trying so hard to tell himself that was what he needed to go. Jack saw the fight within those blue eye, saw the hope still flickering. Jack was the realist and he had been wrong.

Daniel needed to make this choice.

Daniel needed to make the right choice.

Jack hugged him close again, and then let him go. Daniel stared at him, blond bangs falling into his eyes. He looked innocent and trusting and Jack took a mental snapshot of a little boy he knew he'd never ever be able to forget.

He gave Daniel a smile.

"Your choice, Daniel. Your life."

--

His choice. Jack told him it was his choice.

Jack told him it was okay.

But was it? Was it really? Daniel took another look at the man that had welcomed him into his home without a second thought. Drew up adoption papers and let Daniel take the final step in signing them.

Jack loved him, like a friend, like a brother.

Like a father.

It was more than Daniel could ever ask for and more than he could ever need, but Daniel knew he couldn't do this. He couldn't grow up again.

She was right. Something was missing and only Daniel knew what it was.

Daniel turned from Jack and walked over to the water. He told one last look at the six-year-old staring back at him.

Then he closed his eyes and made his choice.

* * *

**Epilogue  
---------------**

Daniel knew the next time he entered Jack's house it would be different.

For one, it was Jack's house again, not his and Jack's house. Not the home he considered it to be for the last year. The air felt different and the view was almost shocking.

He figured being nearly three feet taller than he was forty-eight hours ago would change a person's perception greatly.

A lot had happened in these last two days. More than Daniel could ever imagine. He'd been waiting for this to happen since he woke up and found himself trapped in a five-year-old's body. Being told it was a "gift" didn't make the solution any better.

Janet hadn't been able to fix it. Neither had Sam. Neither could the Tok'ra or the Asguard. Attempts to redial PX385 had failed and failed.

He'd been told it was permanent and had little choice but to try to adapt. It almost seemed like a horrible dream.

But the stack of cardboard boxes outside of Jack's spare room - his old room - showed him it was anything but. Daniel stopped in front of one box and peered inside.

A stack of Sponge Bob DVDs stared up at him.

Daniel's memory of his return trip to PX385 was blurry as best. He remembered a woman and he remembered Jack, but what he told either of them wasn't clear. There was water, at least he'd thought there had been.

The next thing he was aware of was waking up in his usual infirmary bed, a heart monitor beeping above him, and Jack asleep in the chair next to him. In Jack's hand was a small black sneaker, its laces undone.

Daniel immediately knew what had happened. He'd lifted a hand and blinked at the size of his palm.

Daniel Jackson was back.

Daniel O'Neill was gone.

And, as Daniel stared down into the box of Sponge Bob DVDs, Daniel missed him - more than he ever thought was possible.

Inside the room, he heard the sound of someone moving, knew he was picking up items and dropping them into boxes.

Jack.

Daniel knocked on the partially open door before sticking his head in. He wasn't sure if he was truly ready to see the room, but he knew it was know or never. And perhaps the only chance he'd ever have of seeing how Jack O'Neill was really coping.

Though he'd told everyone the memories were blurry - nonexistent really - there was one thing he did recall. Jack told him it was his choice and he remembered the understanding look Jack gave him. But that did not mean that Jack was okay.

Daniel felt like he'd taken away another one of Jack's sons. He could tell himself that it wasn't his fault, but that didn't make the situation any better. Jack would be depressed.

Which was why Jack was packing. Jack was getting rid of every trace of Daniel O'Neill just as Daniel was working hard to regain every part of Daniel Jackson.

At his knock, Jack looked up from the box he was packing.

"Hi," Daniel started.

"Hi." Jack went back to loading items into the box.

"Jack, I-"

"Don't," Jack said, cutting him off. "Don't start, Daniel."

Daniel bit his lip. Already, this wasn't going well and Daniel had no clue how to improve it. His own emotions were on edge and though he had much more control over them than he'd had in a long time, he didn't want tempt fate.

He contemplated heading back into the living room when he heard Jack sigh.

"I'm sorry, Daniel. I'm not, well, I'm not great company right now."

"You don't have to pack it all right now, Jack. And I can help."

"I know. It's just..." Jack's hand felt down to his side. "I'm glad you're back, Daniel. I missed you."

"I missed me," Daniel admitted. "But I wasn't really gone, was I?"

Jack shook his head. "No. But it was..."

"Different," Daniel finished. "I wish I could have been your son, Jack, I do, but this experience have left me with lessons I'm sure I haven't even figured out yet."

"I heard Fraiser wants you to talk to MacKenzie. Think it will help?"

"Yes, well, Janet's intentions are good, but that's not going to happen. She wants you to talk to him as well."

Jack snorted. "Like that's going to happen. I'd rather take on the Gou'ald."

Daniel smiled. "I figured as much." Daniel tipped his head down, feeling his glasses slip every so slightly down the bridge of his nose. He reached up to the frames. They felt foreign after not relying on them for a year. "You think we'll be okay?"

Jack shrugged. "I think I will be. In time, at least. As for you, I think you only know the answer to that one."

"I'll be okay." And he believed it. He'd faced demons before and survived. Besides, he hardly thought living one year in a six-year-old's shoes could be considered another demon. It was a hurdle, that's for sure, but Daniel knew it was time well spent.

And he knew if he could back and stop the transformation from ever happening in the first place, he wouldn't.

That, perhaps, was the biggest surprise of all.

Daniel smiled at the thought and for the first time, looked at what Jack was actually packing. Most of it was clothing, but that was one item that wasn't. It sat on the bare mattress, just butting up against the cardboard.

Shoes. Velcro shoes.

Daniel picked one of them up, peeled the Velcro fastener apart and listened to the scarping sound it made.

"Can I keep this?" he asked Jack.

Jack looked at him confused. "Sure. You know, those were your first pair. After the ones Carter bought, I mean."

"I know. You bought them for me. You understood why I needed them and you didn't make a big deal about it." He slowly turned the shoe around in his hands. "The first time around, I was nearly eight when I could finally tie my shoes. In Egypt, I spent most of my time barefoot, or in sandals. Just before my parents died, my mother taught me how to tie them. The morning it happened, I managed to tie both of them and was so proud of it. When they were gone, being able to tie my shoes didn't seem to matter anymore."

"It mattered," Jack said softly. "Your parents would be proud."

Daniel nodded. "I know. But this time, I didn't care if they were. This time, all I cared about was you." Daniel took a deep breath. "Jack, thank you."

Jack smiled. "Anytime, Daniel. Just remember, big or small, this room will always be yours."

"I know."

Daniel refastened the Velcro across the sneaker. Tying shoelaces is easy. Being lucky enough to have such a wonderful friend wasn't.

He knew, in the end, he and Jack would be just fine.


End file.
